


Love takes time (we have it)

by InLust



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 100 ways to say i love you, Alternate Universe, Angst, Cheerleaders, Cuddling, Denial, F/F, Fluff, Food Sharing, Forehead Kisses, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, Jealousy, Pinky promise, Shovel Talk, Slow Burn, almost kisses, bed sharing, drama club, head in lap, more tags to come, no one dies, prompts, sassy best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 46,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InLust/pseuds/InLust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaery has always been in love with Sansa and somewhere along the line Sansa fell in love with Margaery. Neither of them know how to say it. But actions speak louder than words.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>the slowest of burns: high school au to college au to adulthood au</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take My Seat

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of the "100 ways to say I love you" prompt list on tumblr. It's a series of one-shots but they are all interconnected and I am trying to write all of them YUP ALL 100 of them, so they may be short but hopefully MAYBE /someone/ will say I love you

Sansa hugs the tray just so that it digs into her stomach a bit. Despite the fact that it reminds her of all of the butterflies roaming in her stomach, she finds some sense of security in it. 

It’s terrible being the new girl. It makes her feel so out of place, like she is being judged. Then again, King’s Landing Academy is her dream. She begged her parents to let her go there despite the tuition costs. Costs that she’ll eventually have to help contribute to, it was only fair considering Robb was able to attend years before her. 

She looks around the cafeteria once more, debating if she should go sit with the rest of the cheerleaders. After all, she did make it onto the squad. There are even a couple of other JV members sitting at the table, which makes her feel a lot better. 

As she walks towards the table full of cheerleaders, she realizes that she’s made a mistake. A deep and horrifying mistake that she can’t turn away from anymore. 

There are no more seats. There are, of course, girls standing around the tables but Sansa feels awkward doing that. She’s so tall and imposing--height wise _**not** personality_ (definitely not personality). 

Just as Sansa is about to turn around and probably eat somewhere else that’ll ease the embarrassment of her lonesome self, the JV captain, their mentor, sees her. 

Margaery is gorgeous. Her smile is radiant, her hair is flawless, and her eyes are simply beautiful. She is so gorgeous that it is intimidating because Sansa knows girls like that. They can be beautiful on the outside but inside? Sansa wouldn’t bet on it. 

She wants to believe Margaery is different. That Margaery isn’t some stuck up, superficial, two-faced girl who just wants to be popular. Sansa hopes and hopes but she doesn’t know. 

Margaery smiles at her though and it ruffles the butterflies in her stomach. She even waves a hand for Sansa to come over. 

Sansa feels like she drags her feet but the anticipation of being able to sit at the table wouldn’t be so bad. Or at least having a bridge of some sort. 

She doesn’t even have to ask. Margaery finishes the slice of apple that she has in her hand and stands up. 

“Take my seat,” Margaery offers without any spectacle. 

“I couldn’t--” 

Margaery just laughs and directs Sansa to sit down, gently pushing her along. “I can stand, lord knows how long I’ve had to sit through Home Ec learning how to sew,” she jokes to the table. 

“Are you sure?” Sansa asks as Margaery reaches in front of her for her juice. 

“Absolutely,” Margaery answers confidently. She smiles so wide that Sansa just bites her lip and shyly picks up her sandwich. And as Sansa eats her sandwich, Margaery introduces her to the other JV girls that have made it onto the squad before the Varsity girls. She eases Sansa into the conversations that goes on whenever Sansa lapses into silence. Apparently, there is always something to talk about with Margaery and the conversation never stops. 

Sansa can at least admire Margaery as she stands behind Sansa without a care in the world, occasionally reaching over Sansa for something on her tray. The proximity of the older girl warms her heart despite any reservations Sansa has. And the way Margaery smiles at her? Sansa really wants to believe in the best of the girl. 


	2. Come here, let me fix it

It’s nerve wracking. Sansa’s nerves are completely wracked. She wrings her fingers as she stands in the locker room. Everyone around her looks too busy getting ready to feel the trepidation she does. 

Then again, the Varsity girls live for this. The performance and crowd. It’s a bit more than Sansa can imagine because she thought as JV, there’d be more of her on the back burner for a longer time. 

No, not for homecoming apparently. 

Everyone on the squad is performing. Her first cheer with the Varsity squad, it’s just one giant performance between the Varsity and JV squad. They’ve been practicing for the last month. Of course there are some hiccups here and there. Not everyone can be talented right off the bat. 

At least, Sansa makes up her lack of talent through sheer determination. And practice. A lot of practice. 

Sansa stares in the mirror as the girls continue to joke and rush around behind her. She wishes she could joke but the nerves get the best of her. 

It’s just one performance, but her parents are coming. It’s important to her and they know it. They want to support her. 

Her hands start to sweat and she wipes them against her skirt. 

There’s a bump in her ponytail and it does not look good. Sansa reaches for her scrunchy and hisses quietly, tugging a bit harder than she expects to. 

“Are you alright?” Margaery asks beside her. 

Bless Margaery for being their mentor. She’s been surprisingly patient and supportive of the whole JV squad while the other Varsity members barely bat an eyelash at them. Something about needing to ‘focus more on their routine than some rookies.’ Margaery doesn’t seem to mind though considering, she not only has to come up with a routine for the JV squad but also practice the Varsity routine.

“Just a bit nervous,” Sansa admits as she runs her fingers through her hands. The sweatiness of her palm gets to her and she rubs her palms against her skirt again. 

Margaery giggles next to her. “Come here,” she reaches for Sansa’s wrist and pulls her to one of the benches. “Let me fix that for you.” Sansa looks unsure but Margaery insists as she takes the scrunchy out of Sansa’s hand. “As I do this, I want you to relax. It’ll be brief but do enjoy yourself.”

Sansa scoffs in disbelief, but otherwise says nothing. 

The older girl’s fingers run through her hair and Sansa jumps. “Sansa...relax.” Sansa pouts at her before nodding. “You’re going to do very well tonight,” Margaery goes on as she runs her hair through Sansa’s long red locks. It feels slow and deliberate, allowing Sansa to find comfort in her touches. “You’ve been practicing so hard and you’ve improved a lot. Just make sure you go out there and give it your all.”

“Are you not going to tell me to have fun?” Sansa sarcastically adds. 

Margaery stifles a laugh as she pulls Sansa’s hair securely. Sansa tries not to shiver as Margaery’s hand touches the back of her neck. “Cheeky, cheeky.” With a gentle pull and tug, Sansa’s hair is secured and Margaery smoothes out her ponytail to perfection. 

Sansa stands up and looks in the mirror. Now she looks perfect. In the reflection, she sees Margaery standing there with a smirk. 

“Thank you,” Sansa says as she turns around. There are flutters in her stomach once more as Margaery stares. How does this keep happening?

Margaery steps to her and goes on her tiptoes as she throws her arms around Sansa. Sansa slightly bows to meet the sudden hug. It feels like she’s falling as Margaery hugs her with the swooping sensation in her stomach. But the other girl is warm and comforting that Sansa forgets she’s falling.

“You’re going to be amazing out there today,” Margaery whispers in her ear confidently. 

Her heart swells with confidence and she hugs Margaery back even tighter.


	3. No, no, it's my treat

Sansa shakes her pompoms one last time, drops into a low squat, does a shimmy of her shoulder and for the love of god, hopes she doesn’t pull something as her leg comes up for a high kick. 

Thank the gods, Margaery has them stretching properly after practice everyday.

And as she comes out of her mental coaching, she hears the crowd erupt with an enthusiastic response that swells her heart. It was all worth it. The long arduous month of what felt like endless practice finally surmounted to something tangible--at least for Sansa. She loves the feeling in her chest and feels the rush of a fantastic performance. 

In the crowd, she can see her mother, father, and even her younger siblings cheering for her as she rushes off the field with the rest of the girls. 

As she reaches the bleachers, Margaery is standing there giving hugs and high five to all of the girls. Sansa doesn’t hesitate, mostly from how elated she feels, as she rushes over to Margaery and picks her up in a hug. 

Margaery just laughs boisterously as Sansa nearly swings her around before putting her down.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I still had that strength,” Sansa breathes out, still feeling her heart racing.

Margaery puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles. “Did you have fun out there?” There’s a smirk at her lips that Sansa rolls her eyes at before joining the other cheerleaders.

After the game is over with, Sansa still feels the buzz. She practically rushes out of the stadium to where her family is waiting for her. The only thing that stops her is a hand at her wrist, gently tugging for her attention. Sansa turns to see Margaery standing there bundled up in her letterman and knitted hat, despite it just turning fall. 

“A lot of the girls want to celebrate with milkshakes and greasy foods, if you’d like to join us?” Margaery offers hopefully. 

Sansa glances at her family and desperately wants to say yes, but she doesn’t have any money on her. She unconsciously pats her pocket as she responds, “I don’t think--”

“No, no, it’s my treat.” 

The taller girl looks over at her parents and back at Margaery. There’s a hopeful look on her face, but it feels like it’s been forever since she’s spent time with her family. They did travel a bit to see her.

It’s like Margaery can read her mind when she adds, “Family is important. I understand if you’d like to join us another time.” She smiles so brightly to reassure Sansa. 

“Another time?” Sansa asks hopefully. 

The older girl nods. “Still my treat.” She squeezes Sansa’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Sansa nods shyly before Margaery lets go and joins the other girls. Sansa gives her one last smile before bounding to her family happily. They exchange pleasantries and long overdue hugs.

“She looks nice,” her mother says and Sansa knows exactly who her mother is referring to without looking. 

A smile stays plastered on her face. “She is very nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also at nocteverbascio.tumblr.com


	4. I picked these out for you

It’s been about two months since school started, since Sansa joined the cheerleading squad, since Sansa moved to King’s Landing, since Sansa started as the new girl. She wonders if she still counts as the new girl having been there for two months. She’s found her footing, she thinks, and maybe even found her place in the academy, she thinks.

There were of course little things that Sansa could feel a bit more comfortable with. Like making friends--of course she has the girls on the squad which is nice but Sansa can’t help but feel a little different from them. 

She’s a bit early for lunch and sits at the table the girls usually sit at as they trickle in. She picks at the cafeteria food and it makes her miss her mom’s cooking. That was a luxury she missed the most. 

“By all means, don’t be so enthusiastic to see me,” a voice catches her attention. 

Sansa looks up and sees Margaery sitting down next to her, hair braided out of her face and adorn with a cute little bow. 

“Hello, Margaery,” she greets. Two months and Sansa still feels like her walls are up around Margaery. She doesn’t know why and it bothers her to no end because Margaery’s kindness is unyielding.

Margaery plucks a grape from her tray and pops it into her mouth before she makes a high pitched sound like she’s remembered something. “I have something for you,” she says, barely swallowing the grape in time. She reaches into her bag, she’s far too cool and pretty for a backpack, and pulls out two headbands, one green like the color of Margaery’s family crest and one a rich, vibrant blue that Sansa is enamoured by.

The redhead just stares at Margaery with curiosity as she hands her the headbands. 

“I picked these out for you,” Margaery says as she holds them up on either side of Sansa’s temples. Sansa tries not to move at the proximity and just trails her eyes on either side of her face. The older girl just purses her lips contemplatively before smiling right at Sansa, causing her to blush. “Just as I suspected.”

“What?”

Margaery leans in. “You look great with both.” She brings the headbands down before Sansa.

Sansa looks down at the two headbands Margaery holds out before her. Her jaw drops in awe. “Are these for me?” Margaery nods. “I couldn’t--”

“Take them, I got them for you. That way your hair won’t get in the way when you study and you can keep it down like you prefer.”

Sansa melts at this and takes the gift gingerly. “That was very considerate of you,” she admits, “I don’t know what to say.”

Margaery smirks. “That blue brings out your eyes.”

Sansa rolls her eyes in disbelief. Maybe that’s why she likes it so much. “It really does.” She stares at Margaery wondering what color brings out her eyes.


	5. I saved you a seat

When Margaery first invites Sansa out, it’s to an open mic that’s happening at the local coffee shop in downtown. While Sansa does much of her adventuring of King’s Landing to the beautiful harbor and older rustic buildings like the library and museums (she finds them soothing), she was never one for those sort of scenes as much as she wants to be. Luckily, Margaery continues to open doors for her into the life that she’s dreamed of having by going to King’s Landing Academy.

To be honest, Sansa feels strange that Margaery invited her in the first place. Granted, Margaery has invited her to tons of things before, after practice milkshake runs, after game parties. Those were things that everyone was sort of invited to.

An open mic on a Sunday evening? That is a little different. 

When Sansa enters the shop, it’s everything she’s imagined it to be and she feels more comfortable than ever to at least be there. It’s a small quaint shop with a nice intimate set up as they make room for the make shift performance corner. It smells like coffee grounds and foreign teas with hints of old books. 

She looks around and quickly finds Margaery engaged in a conversation with a beautiful boy with light brown curly hair and a gorgeous smile. Something twists inside of Sansa and she starts to wonder if there is even space for her. 

Sansa precariously walks over to the table, hesitant like a doe. 

The older girl does notice her and stops mid conversation to stand up. The boy sitting next to her just stares before his eyes trail to Sansa. He stands as well and moves the guitar case to his side of the table. 

Turns out there are four seats. 

“Sansa,” Margaery greets happily as she rounds the table to hug the taller girl. “I saved you a seat.” Her hand trails down Sansa’s arm and slips into Sansa’s comfortably before she tugs her towards the empty seat next to her own chair. She lets go of Sansa’s hand to pull out the seat for her even. 

It reinforces her decision to stay because Margaery wants her to stay. Margaery chose her and wants her there. She takes off her jacket and sits down. Their seat are close to each other despite the space, but Margaery doesn’t seem to mind. Sansa doesn’t either. It feels nice to be close to someone, emotionally and physically. 

“This is my brother, Loras, he’s going to be playing his amazing songs,” Margaery introduces enthusiastically. “He’s a first year at KLU currently. Loras, this is Sansa, she’s on the JV squad.” The squad leader looks excited that she’s practically buzzing in her seat, which is so unlike Margaery’s cool, calm exterior when they’re at school. They must be very close to each other. 

Loras smiles cheek to cheek as he holds out his hand for Sansa to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Margaery talks about you constantly,” he says with a bit of an eyeroll. Margaery slaps him in the shoulder as she pours some tea from the little pot on the table. 

Sansa looks a bit confused. She feels the heat at her ears. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that Margaery’s ever mentioned a brother before,” she admits honestly. “It is a pleasure to meet you though!”

Her brother gasps dramatically as he places his hand over his heart. “Marg, you’re the worst! You neglected to tell this lovely girl how you have not just one, amazing brother, me, but two more? What on earth do you talk about then?” Sansa doesn’t want any trouble. Loras notices and shoots her a sly wink. 

“Sansa and I talk about plenty of things! It must have just slipped my mind as all,” Margaery brushed off before turning to Sansa to whisper (aloud), “There’s a reason why I don’t talk about them.” She giggles playfully as Loras throws a crumpled napkin at her head. 

Sansa actually feels herself smiling and laughing as the Tyrell siblings interact. It makes her long for her own family but Margaery and Loras accept her into the fold quickly. The conversation never dull and never uncomfortable, especially when Loras’ boyfriend, Renly, shows up. It’s Sansa’s first gay couple she’s seen and they’re just like anyone else but better? Renly and Loras look at each other like they’re enamored with one another with unwavering support as they talk about how they’ve met and what they’ve been up to. Margaery also accepts them with open arms, bolstering them passionately. 

Throughout the whole night, Sansa feels nothing but warmth in her chest as she spends time with Margaery. And she can’t help but hold onto the feeling of her heart racing whenever Margaery affectionately grasps her hand for support against arguing with the boys. Sansa thinks maybe this is who Margaery really is. She thinks she might be happier than she’s ever been.


	6. What do you want to watch

It’s strange being invited over to someone’s house that Sansa barely knows. Well, it’s not that Sansa barely knows Margaery but to an extent they’ve only met for a couple of months so far. The extent of their friendship has really been Margaery as her squad captain, lunch with the girls, their group hangouts with their peers. With of course, the exception of the open mic (which Sansa will never forget).

Now, it just felt different? 

By no means was Sansa worried about this being one big prank on her at all. Not at all. 

It’s been a long week of tests and quizzes, Sansa just wants to relax. That’s exactly what Margaery said this would be, a good sleepover to relax. 

When has Margaery not kept her word?

The door swings open and Margaery is standing before her in her sleepwear--a pretty satin nightie with a loose robe, you’d swear she’s in a lingerie commercial. 

“Hello, Sansa,” Margaery says almost breathlessly. She must’ve ran down the stairs. She reaches for the bag on Sansa’s shoulder and ushers the taller girl into her home. 

Her home is in fact a mansion that Sansa is in awe of. She’d always thought Winterfell was large but Highgarden was by far larger and more modern. Margaery gives her the grand tour with excitement because she has so many ideas of what they can do tonight. The mansion is  bright and beautiful with white floors and walls adorn with the Tyrell colors and sigils. There are portraits of her ancestors that recently moved from the Reach to King’s Landing. 

When they reach Margaery’s room, Sansa not surprised to see how large it is as well. Despite all the rooms at home, Sansa shared with her younger sister Arya this size. However, the space was well used with full bookcases of texts and novels and an entertainment system. 

Sansa looks at Margaery’s bed and finds herself wanting to just throw herself on it. It looks like a cloud. 

Instead, a title catches her attention and she makes her way to the bookcase as Margaery sets her bag down on the couch sitting in front of the huge tv. 

It turns out it’s not just one title that catches her eyes, although, she’s pretty sure the copy of Florian and Jonquil Margaery has is one of the originals. Her fingers dance along the spines of the books as she looks up and down the shelves. Outside of school what does she really get to do? Especially for herself. 

Margaery meets her at the shelves when they turn into dvds. “See anything you like?” 

Sansa drops her hand but shares a small smile. “Not in particular,” she lies and she doesn’t really know why. Margaery hasn’t given her reason to defend herself. “What would you like to do? From what it seems you have a lot of ideas for tonight.” In truth she is excited to be there with her friend.

“We don’t have to do anything if you’d like,” Margaery offers instead, surprising Sansa. She leans against the shelves casually. “We can relax, pop on a movie, eat obscene amounts of junk food…” 

“We can do anything you want, honest,” Sansa insists, no matter how good lounging around sounds. 

Margaery rolls her eyes at her and takes Sansa’s hand again before bringing her in front of the movie selection. “You are not going to make this easy for me are you? What do you want to watch?” Sansa opens her mouth and Margaery immediately shushes her. “I’m not choosing. I am going to get us lots of food and drinks and we can have a marathon for all I care.” Sansa wants to protest again. “Look, you’ve had a long week, everytime I see you you’re studying or reading. I just wanted to spend time with you; I didn’t invite you over for a rager or anything, so get comfortable.”

The look on Margaery’s face is still sure and hopeful as she squeezes Sansa’s hand with reassurance. Sansa doesn’t know what to say. Margaery doesn’t seem to mind as she lets go of Sansa’s hand and says something about knowing where the unhealthy snacks are. Her mischievous smile warms Sansa’s heart but not as much as it does when Sansa tugs Margaery towards her. 

“Oomf.”

Sansa hugs Margaery tightly, feeling exhausted as she sags slightly. Margaery in turn holds her back tightly, like she knows Sansa just wants to be held in return. She sighs her gratitude into Margaery’s neck because Margaery in her imagination is fading from her mind slowly but surely.

Sansa doesn’t even realize that she spends most of the night staring at Margaery.


	7. I’ll drive you to the hospital

It isn’t Margaery’s fault. Not necessarily and not entirely. Yet, Sansa feels an undeniably fury flare up inside of her after it happens. It’s not a pretty sight before, during and after. In spite of all of Sansa’s feelings, she feels a tremendous amount of guilt. 

Margaery wasn’t at practice. It was unnatural for Margaery not to be at practice. When Margaery isn’t at practice, that’s when she discovers how terrible the Varsity girls can get because the Snake sisters seem to feel entitled to their leadership considering there are three of them. 

“Margaery’s at a meeting.”

“We want to see how well you guys are doing.”

“Your choreography is good but let’s try something different.”

The way they speak to all of them has always bothered Sansa. No one likes being talked down to. 

What’s worse is that out of everyone on the squad, the sisters seem to have it out for Sansa. They seem to make an extra effort not to speak to her since they saw her talking to Myrcella Baratheon--of course she’d talk to Myrcella, they’re on JV together. But they look at her and decide it’d be a good idea to try a triangle formation with her on top. 

It was idiotic and Sansa is pissed that when she even dares to mention that Margaery already has a choreography for them, they think it’s appropriate to say, “Just because you’re Maggie’s pet doesn’t mean anything. You’re just a lowly newbie, who hasn’t mastered an air split like we have.”

The amount of things Sansa could’ve said. First off, she’s nobody’s pet. Secondly, she doesn’t need to work on air splits because her legs don’t need to spread for everyone. Sansa inwardly groans as she just does what they say. 

In hindsight, she should’ve protested harder. Being in the air, without proper support, is how she landed here. 

Literally, cheek pressed against the gym floor and a shooting pain in her forearm. She could cry, but she has too much pride. 

“What the hell?” 

Margaery practically screams as she enters the gym and rushes to Sansa’s side as she sits up cradling her arm.

Sansa is in pain all over and pulls away from the older girl as she struggles to get up. It’s her fault in the first place, for not being there and for letting those Snakes do this to her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Shit it hurts. 

“Don’t you dare move,” Margaery says sharply. 

Sansa recoils at how angry Margaery sounds. No, she was the one that deserved to be pissed. She doesn’t listen to Margaery because it’s not like Margaery is paying attention anyways. She’s gone towards the Snake sisters and the rest of the squads are staring at her like some spectacle. 

Her eyes actually starts to sting and she rushes to grab her bag. Her arm moves slightly and she hisses. Myrcella is encouraging her to stay to wait for Margaery but Sansa is stubborn and leaves as quickly as she can. 

Sansa makes it just outside when she realizes she needs to call her uncle to get her. And most likely bring her to the hospital. She whimpers in pain forgetting to keep her right arm still. She throws her backpack on the steps and tries to open it with one hand. But the zipper isn’t cooperating and everything feels like it’s falling apart. 

She cries out in frustration and pain as the tears begin to fall and she struggles against her backpack. 

The metal doors slam open and the ground crunches toward her. 

“Sansa!” Margaery yells. 

Sansa picks up her head and rubs away her tears before grabbing her backpack. 

“Where are you going?” Margaery yells after her. 

Sansa is determined to get as far as she can from this mess. “I’m going home.”

“Are you mad? You can’t go home, you’re hurt!”

It’s not like you care, Sansa nearly yells but she doesn’t and keeps moving. It isn’t until she feels the weight of her backpack fall from her should that she turns around to the shorter girl. 

“Sansa,” Margaery huffs, “come on, you need to get your arm checked out. It’s broken.”

Sansa holds her arm closer to her body. Her head feels light, realizing this is the first time she’s stopped ever since she fell. “I can call my uncle,” she mutters, fearing she’d say something she’d regret. 

“Don’t be stubborn, Sansa.”

“I’m not being stubborn,” she snaps. 

Margaery stops moving for a moment and just stares at Sansa. It looks as if she wants to say something.

“What?” Sansa growls.

Margaery exhales and shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, Sansa, but you need to see a doctor about your arm--”

“My uncle--”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.” It’s not a demand. It’s not an order. It’s a promise. Even if Margaery doesn’t know what Sansa is angry about (Sansa barely knows), she has the ability to disarm Sansa’s defenses. “Please, let me.”

Sansa nods. Margaery looks relieved and guides her to her car. They don’t speak. They don’t say anything. Margaery doesn’t ask what happened at practice. Sansa doesn’t ask where Margaery was to let it happen.

What she does know--as Margaery tentatively places her hand palm up on the gearshift, eyes glancing at Sansa as she drives--is that Margaery is there now. Sansa bites her lips as the quiet tears fall and slips her hand into Margaery’s, fingers laced the whole ride to the hospital.


	8. I'll walk you home

Sansa has to turn in her uniform for the season because of her broken arm. There is only a month left before winter break anyways. The redhead thinks maybe she should just turn it in indefinitely. Find something else she’d like, something else that makes her feel like she belongs. 

There seems to be a smug look on the Snake sisters’ faces as she drops off her uniform before practice at the end of the day. 

Unfortunately, Margaery is there to see it. The way she looks at Sansa almost makes her regret turning in her uniform but it seems like it’s for the best. 

“How are you getting home?” Margaery asks, catching Sansa before she leaves the gym. 

Sansa glances to the other girls, some of the JV girls look sadly at her (they’ve already expressed their hopes that she’d come back to the team when her arm heals). “My uncle. I’ll just be studying in the library before he gets here.”

“Do you want to go home now?” 

Sansa shakes her head. “It’s alright, I want to get some work done anyways.”

“Marg, it’s time for practice for the real cheerleaders!” 

Margaery inhales deeply, suppressing as much of her frustration as possible. “Give me a second!” she yells in return without looking back. She looks at Sansa apologetically. “I’ll stop by after practice is over?”

“You don’t have to, in case they want to spend time with you,” Sansa says as she looks at the girls doing their stretches and joking around on the JV squad. She’s going to miss them. 

Margaery puts her hands on Sansa’s shoulders to get her attention. “Nothing would make me happier than to spend time with you.” Someone screeches for Margaery again. Her eye twitches in annoyance but she focuses on Sansa. “I’ll see you in the library okay?” Margaery slides her hands quickly down Sansa’s arms and squeezes her hand as a goodbye. 

Sansa nods and waves goodbye to the other girls as she makes her way to the library. It feels like she’s been studying forever. When her eyes start to hurt, she stops looking at her textbooks and glances around the library. It’s been close to an hour and a half, meaning practice is probably over and her uncle should be picking her up soon. The only people in the library are the librarians and Samwell from third year and Shireen from her year, like Sansa they’ve got their books sprawled on their own table even though they don’t need the space.

“Hey,” a voice whispers. 

Sansa turns to look behind her and Margaery is standing there with her bag and backpack, moving to sit next to Sansa. 

“Hey.”

“How is your studying going?” Margaery asks as she pulls her hair tie out to let her hair out. 

Sansa swallows and averts her eyes. She’s always been jealous Margaery looks flawless after practice, no matter how tough it is. She clears her throat. “It’s okay. A bit tough because I can’t use my hand for now.” She gestures to the messy notes taken by her non-dominant hand. “It looks like a chicken ran across my paper with ink.”

“I bet it was an adorable chicken,” the older girl says playfully that Sansa lets out an exasperated laugh. “Is your uncle coming soon or?”

“That is a good question,” Sansa realizes she hasn’t checked her phone. Usually he sends her a text letting her know he’s on his way. He has sent a text, but it’s not a good one. Something about staying late at the office to go over budgeting with the Mayor. She bites the inside of her cheek, had she known, she would’ve walked home already. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Sansa brushes it off as she puts her phone in her bag. “Nothing. I should be getting home. Uncle Petyr has to stay late at the office.” If she goes now, she can make it home before sunset. 

“How are you getting home?” 

“I suppose I’ll be walking,” Sansa says with a purse of her lips. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Margaery says immediately as she stands up. She pauses for a moment like she remembers something but brushes it off quickly. 

“Oh no, I couldn’t, I live in the opposite direction and it’s just a mile away. Not bad at all.”

“It’s alright,” Margaery waves her hand like it’s no big deal. “It’ll be nice for me to have a nice casual walk before it gets too cold.”

There is never any real arguing with Margaery. That is until they reach the doors and hear the pattering sounds outside. Sansa opens the door to see the torrential rain falling. It was indeed fall, what was winter without some rain announcing its impending presence in a few weeks time. 

“Raincheck?” Margaery jokes with a smile. 

Sansa pats her bag and realizes she hasn’t packed an umbrella. She was not expecting rain. She tugs her hood of her flimsy fall jacket. She’s gotten a bit bigger and her head sticks out slightly. It’s not really helpful but it’ll do. 

Just as she steps out, Margaery tugs her back. 

“Are you really going out in that rain?” she asks incredulously.

“Well...yes?” Sansa deadpans. 

Margaery reaches in her bag and pulls out her keys. Specifically, her car keys. 

“You have your car today and you offered to walk me home?”

“Momentary lapse in judgment to spend more time with you, but I really wouldn’t have minded walking you home. Now I can give you a proper ride home.”

Sansa then realizes something. “Oh god. You’re such a nerd aren’t you?” 


	9. Close your eyes and hold out your hands

Sansa is excited to go home. Granted it’s only for a few weeks, but spending the holidays with her family is more than anything she could ever ask for. It was nice to get away from school. King’s Landing Academy isn’t what she thought it would be, but she doesn’t want to give up on it. She’s fought with her parents too long to let her come here. She just needs a break.

And also figure out if she wants to go back to cheerleading in the spring. They do compete in national competitions but Sansa wonders if she wants to go back to the squad in general. 

It’s early in the morning and a light snow has started to come down already. No doubt back at Winterfell they’ve got inches and inches of snow. 

A car honks from outside and Sansa checks the window to see Margaery’s car out there. Her uncle hands her a thermos of hot chocolate before giving her a hug goodbye. She cringes at his affections all the time that he’s basically used to it. 

It’s a wonder that Margaery is up so early on a Saturday morning. She’d imagine the older girl would want to sleep in but nope, Margaery insisted on driving her to the train station. Sansa is surprised she sees Margaery often, if not more, than when they were on the cheerleading squad. Not that she minds of course. It just shows her Margaery is her friend. 

When they get to the train station, Sansa expects Margaery to just drop her off at the kiss and ride, but instead Margaery goes towards the parking garage. They end up arguing a bit over who was going to drag her luggage along but Sansa lets Margaery do it. 

“Thank you,” Sansa says shyly as they reach her terminal. It’s almost time to board. “For everything.” She wiggles her broken arm and waves at her luggage. She is thankful for all that Margaery’s done for her. 

“Anytime.” Margaery says with a smile on her face. “By the way, I got you something!”

“You shouldn’t have,” Sansa returns with a pout. Even if she did have time to make Margaery a card at least. She reaches into her jacket when Margaery stops her.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Come on, just do it.” Margaery is beaming at her. Sansa nods. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Sansa glares at her this time, really? “Fine, just one hand then.”

Sansa shuts her eyes and holds out her good hand. She gets impatient pretty quickly. “What is it then? I don’t very much like surprises.”

“Just a moment.” Sansa is about to snark when she feels something warm drop in her hands. When she opens her eyes it’s a small box that smells sweet and lemony. She brightens at this and looks at Margaery hopefully. “It’s not a real present but I heard that your favorites were lemon cakes. I had them made for you to eat on your trip.”

Sansa looks at the box and wants to open them right away but instead she puts the box down on top of her bags and reaches for the card burning a hole in her jacket. “It’s not much, but I wanted to give you this.”

It isn’t much at all. It’s just a card Sansa wrote. Margaery takes it like it’s the most precious thing in the world and she’s about to open it.

“Wait, no, don’t read it here!” Sansa protests quickly. Her cheeks warm. “It’s a bit cheesy and I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

“As if I could ever laugh at you,” Margaery quips. “But if it is personal, I look forward to reading it.” She tucks the card away in her jacket. 

The PA announces that the train is ready to be boarded. 

“I suppose, I should head out then,” Sansa says awkwardly. 

Margaery nods in agreement. 

She nods and doesn’t wait for Margaery to hug her. This time, she pulls Margaery in and breathes in the flowery shampoo and body wash Margaery smells like constantly in case she forgets. Margaery buries her face in Sansa’s neck and holds onto her like she doesn’t want to let go. 

As they pull away, Sansa feels Margaery’s lips on her cheek. 

“I’ll miss you,” Margaery whispers, breath hot against her cheek and Sansa’s brain has short circuited.

“Me too.” Sansa means it through her stunned muttering. 

“Call me if you need anything?”

“Uh huh.”

Margaery looks at her curiously. “Are you alright? You’re going to miss your train if you don’t move.”

“Right!” Sansa snaps out of her haze and throws a smile on her face. There are butterflies in her chest. She quickly grabs her bag but sees the box of lemon cakes sitting there. And of all the gratitude Sansa has, she ducks just slightly to kiss Margaery’s cheek in return. “I’ll message.”

Margaery is the one that stands there with a blossoming smile on her lips as she waves Sansa goodbye. 


	10. Take a deep breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about this one! there are two versions i did but they're both relevant to the story hahah

Sansa can’t stop thinking about Margaery. Well, mainly, she can’t stop thinking about _cheerleading_ , which by _association_ she thinks of Margaery. Not that Margaery was a negative factor, by all means, no, Sansa adores Margaery, appreciates her, likes her-- _oh, ugh, stop it_ \--

Sansa bites the inside of her cheeks as she looks at her phone. A hand comes up and Sansa knows she’s about to start biting her nail when she grabs her phone. 

_ You can do it. _

_ You can easily message her.  _

_ You said you would. _

The conflict raging inside of her feels so strange. There’s trepidation dancing in the pit of her stomach as she looks at her phone. It’s only been two days, but the holidays in Winterfell are relatively quiet at the beginning of the month. Especially with this two day blizzard going on, Sansa finds herself cozying up at home reading and entertaining herself with the internet.

_ What do I even say? _

Sansa starts typing a message, then realizes that she has nothing to talk about.

It’s only been a few days. But she misses Margaery. 

_I miss you_ \--Sansa starts backspacing quickly. _That’s a bit cheesy._

“DOG PILE!” 

Sansa jerks to the sudden scream and before she can react, she is being tackled to the grown by heaps of fur. 

She knows exactly who the culprit is, “ARYA!” she shrieks in return. 

Her demon little sister is standing at the doorway with her belly aching laughter as she crumbles to the ground. Meanwhile, Nymeria and Lady are batting and playing with and around Sansa, making it very difficult to sit up. When Sansa finally does manage to wrangle in their dogs, Arya is sprawled out on her bed looking at her---

“My phone!” Sansa jumps up, nearly spraining her good hand. 

Arya yelps and rolls off the bed before Sansa gets to her. “I just need to borrow it for a quick second!” she teases from the other side of the bed. 

Sansa growls. “NO!” She was in the middle of a very important unsent message. “It’s mine so give it back!” Her whole body burns at the thought of her sister possibly seeing her text. “Arya!”

The younger Stark sticks her tongue out as she rushes across bed, under Sansa’s arm, and out her door. 

Sansa screams as she chases her little sister around the house.  

When she gets her phone back, one annoyingly embarrassing Facebook status, two jumbled texts, and apparently five accidental phone calls later, Sansa locks herself in the bathroom to undo the damage done. Luckily, her mum was there to help stop the madness because she was terrified Sansa would break her other arm. 

Just as Sansa is about to change her facebook status, her phone starts to buzz in her hand. 

Margaery’s name comes up on the screen. 

Sansa clicks answer and completely forgets what she is going to say.

“ _Hello_? _Sansa_?” Margaery’s voice comes in loud and clear. In the background, it almost sounds like waves crashing. 

“Right!” Sansa realizes she hasn’t answered. “Oh god. I’m sorry-hello!”

“Are you alright?” The older girl isn’t even there but Sansa can imagine the worried look across Margaery’s face. “I got several of your calls. I would’ve answered sooner but grandmother insisted on an uninterrupted tea time.”

“No, oh no. I am so sorry about that. It wasn’t me. That was my little sister Arya. She stole my phone and we must’ve dialed you on accident.”

Margaery laughs. “Alright then, that’s a relief,” she hums. “I suppose that text about missing me was also an accident?”

Suddenly, Sansa feels incredibly embarrassed and she’s lucky she’s locked herself away in the bathroom or her sister would fuss over how much she’s blushing. She doesn’t know why she’s blushing because they’re friends and Margaery has always been affectionate. Granted Sansa could be too...she just isn’t sure why it’s so hard with Margaery. It always makes her feel _weird_. 

“Are you still there?” Margaery sounds worried again. 

She has no reason to sound worried. It’s Sansa. Sansa needs to stop being weird so that Margaery can stop being worried. 

“I’m here!” Sansa blurts out. “I’m sorry, that was Arya. I wasn’t going to send that text. Well--I mean, I was. It just wasn’t a full thought. I said I’d message but I thought it’d be too soon considering I just saw you the other day and you were so nice bringing me to the train station and giving me the lemon cakes, I don’t know if I’ve already said it---”

“Sansa?” Margaery interrupts calmly, her voice soothing and understanding as ever. Sansa also knows Margaery’s face when she sounds like this as well. The small smirk at the corner of her lips and her eyes shining brightly at hers. “Take a deep breath.”

Sansa inhales deeply and exhales. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes even as her heart races from the rambling. “I just--” Her thought trails off because she doesn’t know what she’s sorry for and doesn’t know why she can’t shake the nerves.

“It’s okay,” Margaery admits. There’s a crackle again and it sounds like Margaery really is nearby the ocean. “I was going to call you later tonight anyways.”

“Really?” Sansa asks surprised.

“I was going to message sooner but I thought you’d be busy.”

“Did you need something?” 

“No,” Margaery laughs as though Sansa was being silly. “Not at all. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you got home safely, settling in and all.”

Sansa smiles to herself. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

They lapse into silence because neither of them seem to really know what to talk about. School was out of the question and it just seemed like Margaery wanted to check up on her, which has been done.

It’s about to get awkward, but Margaery asks, “How is home? You never got a chance to tell me about Winterfell.”

Sansa smiles because Margaery is right, she hasn’t talked about Winterfell before and now is a good as time as any. She doesn’t even realize when the awkwardness fades away or how long they’ve been talking until her father worriedly knocks on the bathroom door.

 

 

_**BONUS** _

Sansa is nervous even though she has no reason to be. Nothing has to really change. Nothing really has changed. Just the fact that everything has changed. It started when Sansa turned in her cheerleading uniform last semester because her arm. But now, as she stands outside of the gym after their first day back from winter break, deciding that she doesn’t want to go back to cheerleading at all. 

“Are you alright?” Margaery asks as she slips her hand into Sansa’s. 

Sansa releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and holds Margaery’s hand tightly. “I am now,” she admits. It’s always comforting when Margaery is around. 

It’s gotten more comfortable with Margaery because Margaery had spent most of her break texting her and at least once a week calling her. Out of everyone on the squad, Sansa was surprised that Margaery had been the one to check up on her the most. 

“You ready to tell them about your decision?” Margaery asks. Her eyes trained on Sansa. She’s been nothing but supportive of her decision since she found out. 

Again, another reason why Margaery continually surprises Sansa. Sansa had expected much more of a reaction from Margaery. Maybe beg her to stay. But nope. She had listened to how Sansa had felt without any judgment and supported her wholeheartedly in finding something that she might be more passionate about. 

“I’m not sure,” Sansa answers because part of her felt like she was really finding her place on the squad. Yet, she knew deep down it wasn’t for her. “I’m going to miss everyone on the squad.”

“As you should,” Margaery jabs at playfully, earning a gentle shove. “Look, no matter what your decision is, it is out of what’s best for you. You’ve made friends through the squad and if they’re really your friends, you’ll still be able to spend time with them.”

Sansa purses her lips. Margaery isn’t wrong. The older girl is rarely wrong. 

“If all else fails, at least you know that I am here for you,” Margaery offers up. She says it so simply and thoughtlessly that Sansa knows Margaery means it. 

She’s really starting to believe in what Margaery has to say. She wants to trust Margaery. And she nods in agreement. “Of course you are,” she says softly. 

Margaery’s lips curl into a smile. Sansa doesn’t know why but Margaery smiles brighter than ever. “Take a deep breath,” she encourages with a gentle rub of her thumb. 

Sansa nods and does as Margaery directs. They both exhale together. 

“You’re Sansa Stark and you are entitled to do whatever you want and be whoever you want, okay?”

Sansa nods. “Okay.”


	11. I saved a piece for you

Sansa feels the grumbling of her stomach even as she runs through the halls. If she stops she’ll surely die because the only thing that is keeping her going now is the adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

Who knew how much time could pass when you’re being productive? Then again, Sansa hates to leave work unfinished but the incessant text alerts from her phone was already distracting her. They were all from Margaery, as much as she’d like to be mad at her friend, she can’t be. Margaery was just reminding her for the _third_ time that week, she was about to miss lunch. And apparently, there was an amazing chicken and potato with _lemon cakes_ for dessert. 

Sansa glances at her watch as she turns the corner to the cafeteria. There was still 15 minutes of lunch left, just enough to scarf down something. She pushes the door open and immediately makes her way to the kitchen when she realizes on the other side of the shutter, the hot bar is emptied. 

When she tries for dessert, it’s also a futile effort.

Sansa throws her head back in misery. Her stomach roars this time and she feels her insides turn over. 

“Sansa!”

She turns to find Margaery in the dying crowd. Margaery is standing at the emptying table with her arms crossed. Sansa internally cringes because she forgets how much older and refined Margaery looks without her cheerleader uniform on. Nevertheless, she drags herself over to Margaery.

When she gets close enough Margaery grabs her wrist and pulls her into the seat. 

Sansa glares at the older girl, already cranky from hunger. “Hey!” she yells indignantly. 

“You need to eat,” Margaery scolds as she sits down next to Sansa and practically shoves a tray of food. 

Sansa looks at the plate of food and it doesn’t nearly look as appetizing as Margaery’s text made it out to be. Or maybe she was stuck on the lemon cakes. 

“It would look more appetizing if you’d gotten here when it was warm,” Margaery chides. 

“I was busy,” Sansa snaps at Margaery’s tone, but doesn’t bite as Margaery’s hand rubs her shoulder. She picks up the fork anyways because she knows Margaery just wants what’s best for her. 

“I know you were,” Margaery tries to soften her tone but fails. “You’re always busy. You need to find some good balance with drama class if you want to at least survive it.”

“It’s fine.” There’s a small unconscious sigh she lets out as she chews on her food. It doesn’t take long for her to realize how heavy the lunch might be. She throws herself back in her seat, unsure if she’d be able to finish it. “Is there something lighter?”

“You mean are there still lemon cakes?” Sansa brightens. “Does it look like there are any?” Well, that was _mean_. Sansa pouts as she pokes at her food for another bite. “Oh gods,” Margaery says with a laugh. 

Sansa frowns because the longer Margaery rubs her shoulders, as much as it brings comfort, it makes Sansa realize how exhausted she is. 

Margaery pulls her chair closer and reaches behind her backpack. “I saved a piece for you,” she says as she sets a small plate with a lemon cake on it. There’s a small bite taken from it. “Myrcella was about to eat it before I told her it was for you.”

Sansa laughs at the explanation. “You didn’t tell her to spit it back up, did you?” she jokes. Margaery smirks. “You’re horrible.” She reaches for the lemon cake, when Margaery pulls the plate away. 

“Eat your lunch first and then you can have it.” 

Sansa groans as she drops her head on Margaery’s shoulder. “You’re terrible,” she whines. She feels Margaery’s arm slide around her shoulder.

“And you’re wasting time. Eat, so you can enjoy dessert before the bell rings.”

Sansa sighs and turns her head to the food. She spends the next 10 minutes laying her head on Margaery’s shoulder as she eats. Margaery packs her the lemon cake as a snack for later. And she’s glad she does because Sansa feels a lot better tackling the latter half of the day.


	12. I don't mind

Sansa wrings her fingers as she looks at the clock. It’s been approximately 5 minutes since she texted Margaery. It’s been _5 minutes_ since cheerleading practice has ended. Normally, she knows Margaery is beat after practice unless she’s had her afternoon coffee. Since, they’ve gotten back from winter break, Margaery felt a detox was necessary.

“Sansa, where is your person?” Shae, the senior lead, snaps at Sansa. “I don’t have all day and I want to get this choreography done by the end of the week.”

There’s a loud thud and Sansa looks over to the source. Tommen is on the ground with a propped knocked over as his right arm holds up the sword triumphantly; Shireen has already started to help him up after setting her own sword down sheepishly.

“She’ll be here,” Sansa says confidently, even though, she feels like she’s lying. Margaery is a busy girl, she doesn’t have anymore time to dedicate in the day to the drama club. Sansa is about to check her phone when the doors to the auditorium open up.

Margaery hastily walks down the aisle with her bag slung over her shoulder and her Letterman in her hand. “Sansa?” she calls for loudly that it surprises everyone.

Sansa steps onto the stage to meet Margaery. The older girl leaps onto the stage with ease. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, I know that you’re busy enough with cheerleading and homework. The competition is coming up but this is going to just be for the week,” Sansa says quickly as she grabs onto Margaery’s arms. She starts pulling Margaery back stage and doesn’t think twice as she pulls off Margaery’s bag and takes her jacket. “I just didn’t know who to ask on a short notice. You’re the only one I knew with formal training--”

Margaery stops Sansa by putting her hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. “Calm down, Sansa,” she says soothingly. Her hands cup her cheeks to stop Sansa from talking. “I don’t mind. _Okay_?” Sansa nods, looking completely absurd with her face squished between Margaery’s hands. “Now, what is it that you needed me for exactly?”

“ _This is your person?_ ”

Both of the girls turn to Shae standing there with an eyebrow raised.

Margaery lets go of Sansa face and smiles politely at the senior girl. “Hello, Shae, how are you?”

Shae scoffs and looks at Sansa. “You want _Margaery Tyrell_ to choreograph this fight scene?”

Margaery gives Sansa a look. She’s choreographed before for cheerleading but for a play? A fight scene?

Sansa immediately comes to Margaery’s defense, her hand grabbing for Margaery’s and pulling her against her side. “If anyone knows their way around a sword, it’s Margaery. She’s been fencing for years. And Margaery is a wonderful teacher, I can guarantee you that the scene will be choreographed and blocked by the end of the week.” Shae looks moderately impressed, although she shoots a dubious look at Margaery. Sansa shoots her eyes to Margaery, praying that she’ll definitely say yes.

Margaery just smiles and squeezes Sansa’s hand in her own. She looks exhausted.

“Shae, can we just have a few minutes?” Sansa feels relieved at Margaery’s silent confirmation and squeezes Margaery’s hand in return. She looks back at the senior, who huffs a bit and rolls her eyes.

“No,” Shae sharply says as if that was the dumbest thing Sansa could ask. “Margaery, come with me, I’ll show you the scene. Sansa, make sure you have everyone’s sizes ready for adjustments.”

Sansa purses her lips and nods. She reluctantly lets go of Margaery’s hand and hopes maybe she can sneak the cheerleader a snack.

“It’ll be fine,” Margaery says confidently. Sansa should be the one reassuring her, not the other way around. “I’ll come find you after.”

“Come on then!” Shae says impatiently.

Margaery winks at Sansa before moving quickly to Shae’s side.

All Sansa hears as they walk back to find the other actor is Shae muttering about, “Not having time for girlfriends and their heart eyes.”

Whatever that means, Sansa furrows her brow as she makes her way back to her costumes. She’ll definitely have to sneak Margaery a snack soon with Shae being in a _mood_.


	13. Take my jacket, it's cold outside

To say that Margaery had patience was an understatement. Margaery was beyond patient; she could be compared to a saint for all Sansa cared. She didn’t know what she was expecting after asking Margaery to help with the play. Because when she did, Shae had been...for lack of better terms...a _bitch_ to Margaery.

Sansa doesn’t even understand why, which makes how Margaery has been dealing with the senior extremely admirable. Shae was always a bit uptight but she was nice otherwise. With Margaery, it’s like she didn’t like the girl _at all_. 

If Shae hasn’t explicitly said it, her tight lipped, glowering expression said it all. As much as she dislikes Margaery, she is grateful for the girl. Margaery has been working with the cast and crew all week for what feels like hours to make sure that Casanova (a fact Margaery was really excited about) gets the sword fights it deserves. 

Margaery looks graceful as ever as she whirls with her sword. When she lands the whirl, she looks stately with her hair settling behind her in a flurry, back straight, and arm outstretched. She directs Shae to do the same. The landing isn’t as graceful but Margaery encourages Shae to land lower, her hands on her hips, before guiding Shae’s arm outward.

Shae laughs at something Margaery says and Sansa feels her jaw clench before looking away. There are a bit more adjustments that need to be made and Sansa needs to organize the costumes for dress rehearsals next week. At least, they’re getting along with one another to an extent.

Sansa is huddled at the feet of the model working on the hem of some trousers when the light is suddenly dimmed. 

She looks up in confusion and finds Margaery standing next to her with a smile on her face. 

Margaery crouches down asking, “Are you almost finished?”

“Almost, just a few more stitches,” Sansa says as she goes back to work. There’s a bit of annoyance in her stomach. Probably because Margaery is interrupting her work. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Shae?”

“She said she didn’t need anymore help apparently,” Margaery says as she sits down next to Sansa. She’s changed out of her cheerleading uniform into her school sweats and simple t-shirt but she still looks beautiful. 

Sansa keeps her eyes focused on the trousers. “That’s surprising, it seems like you two are getting along.”

Margaery lets out a laugh. “That’d be impossible,  Shae hates me.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. _It doesn’t seem like it._

“What was that?

The redhead bites her lips, not realizing she said it out loud. “Nothing, nothing,” she blurts out quickly, feeling the heat rise up the back of her neck. _Why did I say that? What am I thinking?_

“Sansa?” Margaery asks with a giggle. “Are you _jealous_?”

Sansa feels her cheeks turn red. “ _No_!” she protests as hotly as her face feels. “Why would you think that?”

Margaery shrugs cooly. “I don’t know. I am just saying. You seem awfully upset at me for working with Shae recently.”

“Have not.” 

“Have _too_.”

“Have **not**.”

“Have _tooooo_.”

Sansa huffs, trying to mask her embarrassment. Was that what it was? Jealousy? She has no reason to be jealous. Margaery can be friends with whomever she wants. “Are we five, Margaery?”

“I will act as if I am if it gets you to stop being upset at me.” Margaery throws her arms around Sansa, nearly knocking her over in a hug. “Don’t be mad at me! You are my _bestest_ friend in the _universe_! Not anyone else! _Please_!”

Sansa yells at Margaery’s sudden antics. “Stop it!” She yells even though it all morphs into a laughter anyways. They turn into a heaping mess on the floor of Margaery trying to hug Sansa and Sansa trying to resist.

“ _For the love of god_.”

The two girls look up from their place on the ground to see Shae standing there with her hand on her hips. Sansa immediately sits up and Margaery rolls over to stand gracefully. 

“When you’re done, doing _whatever_ this is,” Shae waves her hand around them, “Tommen needs more help.” She gives Margaery a warning look before leaving them. 

“I suppose that is my cue,” Margaery says to Sansa, “I’ll come find you after?” Sansa nods shyly. 

Sansa finishes hemming the costumes before Margaery is done going over the scene, so she sits down in the audience. Her eyes never leave Margaery as she watches her drama mates rehearse. The older girl is just so graceful and charismatic. She’s so good at everything. Not to mention beautiful. The way she smiles so warmly at everyone and genuinely congratulates everyone on a job well done. Even Shae has a hard time hating the girl. 

There’s a climax in one of the fight scenes, with Tommen on top of some boxes and Shireen fighting from below. Tommen looks a little unsteady and unsure of what to do next until Margaery yells, “Parry!” And he suddenly maneuvers himself as Shireen attacks. There’s a loud cheer when Tommen is gracefully defeated. 

Needless to say, the cast is immensely grateful for Margaery’s coaching. Sansa is proud of her friend. 

Tommen is going off about how incredible Margaery’s been and how thankful he is for her. Margaery is humble with her responses. Her attention diverts from the freshman, when she sees Sansa. “Hey there,” she greets with a bright smile on her face. 

“Hello Sansa!” Tommen greets. “Isn’t Margaery great?” He gushes over her like a cute little puppy. Sansa smiles at him and of course she agrees. Pleasantries aside, he gushes a bit more before leaving them. 

“Are you ready to go?” Margaery asks.

Sansa nods. “Are you still okay to drive me home?” 

“Of course,” Margaery responds before tossing on her sweatshirt. She looks at Sansa, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Are you going outside like that?” 

Sansa looks down at her jumper and jeans. She didn’t see what was wrong with that. “It’s not that bad out.”

Margaery reaches into her gym bag and pulls out her letterman. “Here.”

Sansa looks at the jacket Margaery holds out to her. “Your letterman?”

“Yes, it is that.” 

“You do realize that you’re a size smaller than me right?” Sansa jokes, still not taking it. It’s a kind gesture but she doesn’t _need_ the jacket. 

Margaery glares at her. “Excuse me, in case you didn’t know, that is a size bigger than me,” she quips, “So you definitely fit it.” She moves towards Sansa to throw her letterman around her shoulders, tip toeing slightly to do so. “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

Sansa feels warm already. Mostly from Margaery’s proximity as she helps pull Sansa’s hair from underneath the jacket. 

“It suits you,” Margaery remarks with a smirk as she brushes Sansa’s shoulders. 

“You only say that because you’ve seen me in one of these before,” Sansa banters as she slips her arms through. Maybe because Margaery’s a bit worn, her letterman is far more comfortable than the one that Sansa had. Or maybe it’s the homey smell of roses and lavender that Sansa likes so much already.

Margaery wiggles her eyebrows. “I like this better because it’s _mine_ you’re wearing.” The shorter girl tugs the lapels of the jacket a bit. Sansa stops breathing when Margaery bites her lips. The way she does it makes her feel different. 

The butterflies are back. 

“ _I swear you two_.” 

Thank goodness that Shae shows up, looking disapproving as ever. “Sansa, good job on the costumes,” she says before looking at Margaery. She doesn’t want to say it but Sansa looks at Shae to be nice. “Thank you as well, Margaery. I will see you both at rehearsal tomorrow.” Then she leaves with an indecipherable look over her shoulder.

Sansa blushes as she hides herself a bit further in Margaery’s letterman. She thinks she just might keep it because of how soft and comfortable it feels.


	14. I'll help you study

Second year and Sansa is already feeling the pressure. Classes get harder, of course they do. But Sansa needs to challenge herself, so she decides to take AP level history. The History of Westeros is apparently much lengthier than she thought and of course at the AP level, that means more than just reading and remembering, it’s analyzing and interpreting. 

“What does this even _mean_?” Sansa grumbles as she drops her face onto her book. 

Margaery is reading her High Valyrian text on her bed and just watches as Sansa drops her face into her book. There are a few whining sounds that follow and Margaery smirks to herself before going back to her reading. 

A few seconds later, Sansa picks up her head and whips around to look at Margaery. 

Margaery pretends not to notice. She keeps her eyes trained on her textbook. 

Sansa has always had pride in being able to handle her school work and extracurriculars. As a freshman, Sansa had the confidence that she’d be able to handle it all. As a sophomore, Sansa has some doubts about that now because she can’t tell why it’s important to know so much about the Age of Dragons if they were just legends. 

Now she feels she was a little too overzealous in taking this class. 

Sansa purses her lips at her best friend. Margaery was always able to anticipate her emotional struggle. So why wasn’t she doing anything? Sansa looks out the window forlornly, letting out a big sigh, just loud enough for Margaery to hear. She doesn’t move her head, only glances back to see if the brown haired girl reacts. 

She lets out another dramatic sigh. 

A beat goes by, forcing the redhead to look back at Margaery. Her friend is still engrossed in her text.

Sansa turns away again. Sansa clears her throat and starts the conversation, “ _Sansa, what’s wrong?_

Oh, Margaery, how kind of you to ask. 

_ You know how much I care about your well being. _

I know and that’s why I keep you around.

_Really? Is that so? I have many other talents as well._ ” 

Margaery stops pretending to read her book and looks at Sansa.

“Oh, pray tell Margaery! What other talents do you have?

_ Well, I am excellent in everything I do. I can play piano and violin. I can speak three different languages---I could go on and on, but tell me little dove, what do you need help with? _

Gee, Margaery, it’d be helpful if you could help me study this horrid AP History of Westeros.

_Of course! I’ll help you study_.”

Margarey rolls her eyes. That’s what Sansa wants. She could easily just ask but nevertheless, Margaery slaps her book shut and jumps off her bed. “Alright, cheeky,” Margaery drops her chin on Sansa’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” 

Sansa hides her smile before pretending to be unaffected by Margaery’s attention. She shrugs. “Nothing really, just studying.”

“I believe that you were asking me to help.”

“Asking for help? No, not at all. I haven’t done that.”

Margaery narrows her eyes at Sansa, who finally turns to look at Sansa’s face. She doesn’t bat a single eyelash with the centimeters apart. “Sansa…”

Sansa sends a cheeky smile. “Yes?”

The older girl looks at the text. “APHOW, that was tough last year when I took it. I’ll help you study.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Sansa still goes on playing this game. 

Margaery just shakes her head with a smirk. “I _want_ to.”


	15. Sorry I'm late

Margaery was rarely ever late without telling Sansa that she was going to be late or how long she was going to be. Honestly, it was starting to make Sansa feel foolish for being there in the first place because she’s been sitting on her own for about a _half hour_ now and there still hasn’t been word from the older girl. 

“Need another, love?” the red haired waitress named Ros asks as she comes by. 

Sansa purses her lips and tries not to be upset that enough time has passed for her to finish a milkshake. She heavily debates on leaving but something inside her has hope that Margaery will be coming soon. 

“Yes, please,” she answers the waitress.

Ros takes the glass before heading behind the counter. When she returns, Sansa’s staring at her phone intently. 

“Whoever this boy is, he doesn’t seem worth it if he stands you up,” Ros comments playfully.

“Oh, no it’s--I am waiting for a girlfriend,” Sansa blushes at her word choice, “a _girl_ who is a _friend_ ,” she quickly adds. 

Ros laughs at how flustered she is. “Regardless, _she’s_ not worth those lines on your beautiful face if she doesn’t show up.”

Sansa furrows her brows again as Ros leaves the table. She shakes her head and turns on the camera. _What lines?_

Suddenly the door to the diner jingles and Sansa watches as Margaery enters. She smiles until she sees Trystane Martell following her friend. 

_ What is he doing here? _

Sansa tries to quell the twisting feeling in her stomach by sipping at her milkshake. Margaery easily spots her and makes her way over while Trystane awkwardly bumbles after her. 

Margaery is smiling brightly at her as if she wasn’t late. Well, she is _extremely_ late and Sansa is annoyed. “Sorry, I’m late,” the older girl slides into the booth right into Sansa’s still form. 

“You’re really late,” Sansa mutters. She looks at Trystane. “What is he doing here?”

Margaery looks at Sansa with mirth in her eyes. “Be nice. I had to wait for Trystane because he needed a ride as all.”

Sansa almost wants to disregard the Dornish boy’s presence, but the look on Margaery’s face is encouraging her to be nice. So she tries, “Trystane.”

“It’s good to see you, Sansa, how are you?” he asks cheerfully.

“Fine.”

Margaery sucks in a breath through her teeth as she slaps Sansa’s thigh underneath the table. “Trystane was actually discussion some future plans on the student council he had. A lot of fundraising events right?” she tries to carry on the conversation, which eases the boy a bit.

They talk for a bit, mainly Margaery and Trystane, discussing something that Sansa doesn’t really have a part in. Or doesn’t really care because Sansa still doesn’t understand why the boy is there. _Since when was Margaery interested in Trystane Martell?_ It isn’t until the door jingles again that Sansa shoots Margaery a confused look. 

“Ah, Myrcella! You took some time!” Margaery greets happily as the cheerleader approaches them. 

Trystane brightens considerably as he slips out of the booth to let Myrcella take a seat. There’s a blush on his sun kissed cheeks that Sansa notices. His ears also go a bit red as he bumbles around Myrcella’s presence. He’s being quite fussy. 

It’s not like Myrcella is any better, she smiling so brightly that it rivals Margaery’s smile. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” Myrcella says as she slips into the booth. It doesn’t seem directed at them though because her eyes are completely on Trystane. “Obara was fussing again as all.” 

“Why do you think I high tailed it out of there?” Margaery jokes to the other cheerleader. 

Myrcella giggles before looking apologetically at Trystane, considering the Sand sisters were his cousins. 

“Don’t mind me, Obara sometimes has a stick up her arse,” Trystane casually states before he adds quickly, “Pardon my language.”

Myrcella doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. 

Sansa isn’t sure what exactly is going on until Margaery tugs at her hand. 

“Can I borrow you for a second?” Margaery says, already pulling her out of the booth towards the counter, leaving Myrcella and Trystane in the booth. 

“What’re you doing, Margaery?” Sansa asks as quietly as she can as they slip into seats at the counter. 

“I know you’re mad at me for being late, but I promise, this is for Trystane and Myrcella.”

“What?” 

Margaery jerks her head over to the two, who are now engaged in an awkward quiet spell. It doesn’t stop them from glancing at one another though. “I’ve been wondering why they’ve been acting so weird around each other all year and I’ve been talking to Trystane about it,” Sansa narrows her eyes, “and he likes her.”

“He _likes_ her?” 

Margaery just raises her eyebrows with an all knowing smile. Sansa rolls her eyes in return. “Come on, we’re going to go,” she suddenly says as her hand falls into Sansa’s again. 

“We’re just leaving them?” Sansa asks in confusion. 

“Of course. They need some alone time. It’ll do them good.”

“Ah, Sansa, leaving already?” Ros appears at the counter. Both of the girls turn to the waitress. The older woman has her eyes on Margaery before she leans in. “Is this one causing you trouble?”

“Not at all, ma’am,” Margaery says before Ros holds her hand up to her face to silence her.

“Sansa can answer herself.” Ros has this look on her face that takes the confidence away from Margaery completely. 

Sansa giggles at the way Margaery looks alarmed at the waitress. “It’s fine, Ros. This is my friend I mentioned earlier.”

Ros purses her lips. “You treatin’ her right?” she shoots at Margaery.

Stunned by this question, Margaery stutters an answer in confusion, “Uh-s-s-yes, ma’am?”

Sansa shoots the waitress a look because clearly Margaery is thrown off her kilter by this line of questioning. Ros goes on, “And I take it you’re going to be the one paying for the milkshakes?”

“I’ve got it, Ros,” Sansa says as she reaches for her wallet. 

“Of course, Sansa, I’ve got it,” Margarey interrupts as she pulls out some bills for the cost. 

Ros takes the money and counts it before beckoning Sansa closer to her. She whispers, “It looks like you got a good girlfriend after all.” Sansa feels her whole face go red at the implication.

“It’s not like that!” Sansa protests hotly while Ros walks away with a laugh. 

“What was that then?” Margaery asks in confusion. 

“Nothing,” Sansa says as she grabs Margaery’s hand. “We were going weren’t we? Myrcella can drive Trystane home, can’t she?” 

Margaery smiles mischievously. “That was the plan.”

“Good because I’m still mad at you for making me wait so long.” Sansa drags the older girl along. 

“I said, sorry, I’m late!”  


	16. We can share

Sansa is still somewhat annoyed that she had to wait for Margaery after practice, considering she could’ve stayed a bit later in the drama closet organizing the mess from their last year’s production to prepare for the fall production. They both have things to do. Sansa has her drama club, which takes up a lot more time than she expects. And it’s fine because Margaery has taken a sudden interest in student council meetings in addition to cheerleading. 

“You honestly _still_ can’t be mad,” Margaery says as she hooks an arm around Sansa’s as they walk. 

Sansa shrugs as she licks her ice cream. She can string Margaery a bit longer if it means more sweets. “We could be doing homework right now,” Sansa reminds as she stays focused on licking her ice cream before it melts.

It’s fall but clearly King’s Landing wants to skip from summer straight to winter this year. 

“Oh come on, Sans, the school year has barely started,” Margaery pleads as she waves her free arm. “The weather is still lovely, the coast is beautiful, there are still people out. You don’t need to worry about homework just yet.”

Sansa shrugs noncommittally and tries not to worry over the possibility of Margaery’s ice cream flying out of her hand. It would serve her right. “If you weren’t busy playing Cupid, we wouldn’t be here now,” she tries to be playful about it. 

Of course, Margaery takes it to heart regardless.  

The older girl doesn’t let go of Sansa’s arm, in fact she tugs a bit that Sansa stumbles against her side before slipping her hand into Sansa’s. “But if I didn’t play Cupid, then Trystane and Myrcella would be dancing around each other for ages.”

“Does Myrcella even like him?”

Margaery laughs. “It’s because you haven’t been at practice. Trystane, the ever sweet cousin, waits for his cousins to drive home every single day. And obviously Myrcella is there and they sometimes chat.”

Sansa tries not to feel a tug Margaery’s comment about Sansa not being on the team anymore. “ _Chat_?”

There’s a smirk on Margaery’s lips. “Chat. Flirt. _Gaze longingly_ at each other. The whole nine yards.”

Sansa has to admit that is cute. Even though, she wishes she could be there to witness it firsthand, it’s still a cute thought. It definitely explains Myrcella’s chipper demeanor in Literature class despite the tragic ending of Romeo and Juliet. She supposes a prod of her friend is due. 

“You can’t even be angry anymore, it’s cute!” Margaery insists as she licks her ice cream. 

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Of course, it’s cute. All love stories are cute!”

Margaery laughs triumphantly. “I knew you’d agree.” She takes a lick of her ice cream. “Now, all you have to do is let me play Cupid for _you_.”

Sansa’s eyes widen comically. “Me?” she exclaims in confusion. She doesn’t like anyone. She doesn’t even really have time to talk to anyone. She can’t even _imagine_ who she’d even like.

The older girl nods as she gently bumps her hips. “Anyone catch your attention yet?”

“If they did you’d be the first to know.”

Margaery hums in agreement. “I suppose that’s true. Never hurts to keep that in mind though. You know I’d be here for you. Tell you if that boy is good enough or not.”

“What if I like th- _him_ despite what you say?” Sansa doesn’t know why she stumbles over saying him. She never really thought about it. 

There’s an indiscernible look on Margaery’s face as she purses her lips at the thought. Sansa bites her lip because she’s unsure of how Margaery would answer. Or how she’d want Margaery to answer.

She feels Margaery’s fingers lace with hers as they walk. 

Margaery licks her ice cream. “Well, hopefully they’d be good enough for you,” she settles on with a smile on her face. The way she smiles sends flutters in Sansa’s chest.

The taller girl squeezes Margaery’s hand in return. Just as she is about to respond, she doesn’t realize that someone is coming up behind them. 

“On your left!” The warning is far too late because Margaery tries to tug Sansa to her side of the walkway. Sansa yelps and stumbles through the sound of an angry yell and bell ringing. When Sansa’s heart rate comes down, she realizes that Margaery’s arm is around her waist and she’s holding onto Margaery in return.

“What an arse,” Margaery practically growls under her breath as she glares down the road where the biker has gone.

Sansa knows Margaery wants to chase him down and give him an earful. But she realizes her hands on Margaery’s waist and lets go quickly. “Oh no,” Sansa whimpers as she turns around in realization. 

Her ice cream is now cream down on the dirt. 

“Alright,” Margaery hisses definitively as she moves to bolt after the guy. 

Sansa rolls her eyes and quickly grabs Margaery’s hand again. “No, it’s fine,” Sansa says quickly. She did have _two_ milkshakes just before this. “ _Really_. It’s not worth it.” The pleading look in Sansa’s face acquiesces Margaery. 

Instead of saying something, Margaery holds her ice cream cone between the two. Sansa raises an eyebrow. 

“We can share,” Margaery explains.

“Oh?”

“What?”

Sansa wrinkles her nose. “You’ve licked it as all.”

Margaery looks offended. “How else do you eat ice cream?” Sansa bites her lip. “I don’t have cooties, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

The redhead can’t help but giggle. She knows Margaery is trying to be sweet about it. It’s just--when did they become friends that share food? She takes Margaery’s hand that’s holding the ice cream and closes her lips around a large chunk of the ice cream. “Ar yu happeh?” she garbles. 

Margaery’s eyes are wide as Sansa pulls back. “Are you kidding me?! You ate like _half_ of it!”

“You vanted to thare.” Sansa giggles as the large glob melts her in her mouth. “Ahh,” she blinks her eyes shut as the brain freeze comes on quickly. 

“Hah, serves you right,” Margaery says as she licks the ice cream. 

Sansa laces their fingers once more and holds Margaery’s wrist to steal more ice cream. 

“I take it back! No more sharing, you monster!” Margaery yells as she tries to pull the ice cream out of Sansa’s range. 

“Whose fault is it that we’re here? I demand ice cream!” Sansa jokes as she tries to pull Margaery in closer--for the ice cream! Margaery is freakishly strong for someone half a head shorter than Sansa. Instead of Sansa pulling Margaery towards her, Sansa finds herself being pulled towards Margaery. 

Suddenly their faces are inches apart, the ice cream held between their hands. Sansa forgets how to breath completely as she smells the flowery scent Margaery seems to exude constantly even after a sweaty practice. Margaery is staring at her with a smirk on her lips.

Sansa bites her lips before narrowing her eyes in a challenge. “Are you going to be nice and share?” she asks lowly. 

Margaery swallows. Her eyes flicker down briefly and Sansa’s throat goes dry. Margaery shifts closer and Sansa’s heart pounds. “Who says _I’m_ _nice_?” 

Sansa feels hot. Her body flares at the proximity. Her hand feels like it’s sweating. She doesn’t know how to handle herself with Margaery staring so intensely at her. She takes this moment to snatch the ice cream cone from Margaery and rushes down the path. 

“ _Who says I’m nice_?” Sansa yells back in return leaving Margaery to stand there laughing to herself.  

“Get back here, Sansa!” Margaery yells as she sprints after Sansa. 


	17. There is enough room for both of us

When they finally make it back to Sansa’s uncle’s home, they barely want dinner. Margaery had warned Sansa that she’d be spoiling her appetite for dinner, but she couldn’t stand in the way of Sansa and her sweets. Especially making Sansa wait for Margaery with her scheming to get Trystane and Myrcella together. 

Nevertheless after an interesting dinner with Petyr prodding Margaery about how her family was doing and how everything at school was going, he allowed them to retire to Sansa’s room. 

“Your uncle is an interesting man,” Margaery says quite diplomatically as she puts her backpack down near Sansa’s desk.

Sansa scoffs. “He’s just really overprotective. He practically rivals my father.” 

“He doesn’t have kids of his own?” Margaery asks with curiosity.

Sansa shakes her head. “Robyn, my cousin, is his step son but Uncle Petyr’s work keeps him too busy in King’s Landing to visit the Eyrie. That side of the family is complicated,” Sansa grimaces, trying not to think of it. 

“Well, if he wasn’t here, where would you stay?”

Sansa hadn’t really thought of it. Other than Uncle Petyr, she didn’t really have family in King’s Landing. Her main argument in attending KL Academy was because it was a prestigious school and Uncle Petyr was already there. To be frank, she hadn’t really ever talked about why she was attending King’s Landing Academy as opposed to Winterfell High with Margaery. 

“Probably some boarding home.”

“Really?”

Sansa nods as she pulls out her homework. “KLA is very expensive. I had to practically beg my parents on hands and knees to let me come here. Uncle Petyr was nice enough to let me stay here. But otherwise, we don’t really have family down here. I would probably have to start working soon to be honest, so I can help pay for tuition.” 

Margaery purses her lips as she takes out her own textbooks. “Well, if Uncle Petyr ever decides to go back to the Eyrie, you’re more than welcome to stay with my family.” 

The redhead has to do a double take at what Margaery says because it’s such a frank and kind gesture. The kindness that Margaery has is entirely unyielding and wholly unexpected. Sansa blushes. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I feel like you would get bored of me so easily.” 

“I hardly doubt that would ever be possible.” There’s a cheeky smile on Margaery’s face.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Come on, we were supposed to be studying hours ago.” 

What Sansa expects is Margaery’s attention span to be much shorter than hers, especially after a good day. Instead, Margaery is studying as hard as Sansa and hours pass without either of them realizing it. Sansa has gotten through a lot of her assignments and she’s almost done, while Margaery is hard at work organizing her schedule and finishing up her homework as well. 

Sansa is grateful that the older girl is just as productive, if not more than she is. They make excellent study buddies. 

Margaery’s head is lolling towards her textbooks though. It brings a smile to Sansa’s face because she feels the same way. It’s just a lot more adorable to see Margaery’s tired expression because she rarely ever sees it. Instead of looking constantly alert and aware, Margaery, when tired, looks peaceful. 

Sansa goes downstairs to get some water when she sees Uncle Petyr working on his books. He shuts them furtively and shoots her a smile. 

“You’re up late,” he notes. 

Sansa nods as she moves to the fridge. “We’re just finishing up our homework.”

“Margaery is nice,” he adds. The way he says it rubs Sansa the wrong way. It’s like there’s an intent behind his words. Granted, he’s always been that way, it’s just that Margaery is _her_ friend.

“She is,” Sansa agrees as she clutches the water bottle in her hand. She bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t usually ask but tonight seems like a good a time as any. “Is it alright if she spends the night? It’s late and she’s falling asleep already.”

Uncle Petyr raises an eyebrow at her and Sansa doesn’t know what to think. By no means is he her father, but Sansa still has to respect him as an adult. “Of course,” he finally says. “You know where the extra sheets are.” Sansa nods. “That is if you need them.”

Sansa tries not to let the confusion be revealed in her face. She just nods and says thank you before heading back upstairs. _Why wouldn’t I need extra sheets?_ Sansa thinks as she stops a the linen closet on the way to her room. 

Surprisingly, Margaery takes some convincing to not drive so late in the night back to her house. It also takes Sansa a bit more effort to ensure that Margaery isn’t inconveniencing her by sleeping over. 

“It will make me feel a lot better if you weren’t driving while you are so exhausted.”

Margaery purses her lips. “I’m fine, Sansa. I think that quick doze gave me more than enough energy I need to get home.” 

Sansa crosses her arms and tries to look tough. “I am not taking no for an answer. You let me stay at your place all the time, I can repay the favor this time.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” Margaery insists. 

It’s so strange how Margaery can be so particular about certain things. Sansa knows she has no problem sharing and being open to Sansa, but clearly receiving some goodwill in return is not something the Tyrell is used to. All it takes is Sansa to pull the same trick her dog, Lady, does, going all bright, round, puppy eyes on Margaery and Margaery instantly caves. 

“What’re you doing?” Margaery asks as she comes back into the room. Sansa’s clothes are a bit baggy on the shorter girl but she still looks adorable in them. 

Sansa pauses laying out the sheets on the ground next to her bed. “I’m just making a spot for me to sleep.”

“You’re kidding.” 

“What?” 

Margaery moves to climb onto the bed. “You’re letting me sleep over, if anyone should sleep on the floor it should be me.” 

“It’s alright,” Sansa shrugs as she keeps making her little nest. “You’re my guest.” 

A hand falls on Sansa’s wrist and she looks to see Margaery kneeling on her bed with a look on her face. “I know that you’re bed is smaller than mine, but there is no chance you’re sleeping on the floor. We can share the bed.”

Sansa pouts. _It’s a full size bed though…_

Margaery gently pulls Sansa along. “There’s enough room for the both of us.” The look in Margaery’s eyes shouldn’t make Sansa feel nervous, but maybe it’s the combination of her warm hand around her wrist, gently guiding her towards the bed. 

Of course, they’d share a bed at Margaery’s place before but there is a stark difference between a queen size bed and full size bed. Especially with Sansa being so tall. 

Just as she suspects as they tuck themselves under the covers, they’re extremely close to one another. Much closer than Sansa is consciously used to. Margaery is generally very respectable during their sleepover, which makes Sansa worried about herself because there have been plenty of times where Sansa’s woken up early being curled up against Margaery on her side of the bed. 

Now that they don’t have a 2 to 3 foot distance between them, and it’s basically a foot if not six inches, Sansa knows that’ll it will be difficult to not gravitate towards Margaery’s warm body. Not that she’s noticed or anything. 

They turn off the lights and lie there in silence. Sansa thinks that Margaery’s already fallen asleep when she hears, “I can sleep on the floor if it makes you feel better,” like she’s reading her mind or something.

Sansa turns her head to face Margaery and with the light, she can make out Margaery’s features still. “It’s alright, I just don’t want to intrude on your space…”

Margaery turns on her side to stare at Sansa fully. “I’m not the cuddle monster like someone I know,” she pokes playfully that it makes Sansa blush. 

“That’s it, I’m sleeping on the floor,” Sansa declares as she gets up from her bed.

Suddenly, she feels a hand slip into hers and she turns to see Margaery holding her hand. In a single movement, their fingers lace and Margaery tugs Sansa back into bed. 

“Don’t you dare,” Margaery playfully threatens as she lies back down and encourages Sansa to do the same. She doesn’t let go of her hand and brings it up between their bodies. “I don’t mind it at all. For someone from the North, you are surprisingly warm.”

Sansa blushes. “So I am here to keep you warm?” 

The older girl hums. She doesn’t answer Sansa as she closes her eyes. In a few moments, Sansa finds herself calm and exhausted and the two girls fall asleep with their fingers laced together through the night. When Sansa wakes up cuddled against Margaery’s back, she doesn’t mind it at all because Margaery’s hand still holds onto hers.


	18. I was just thinking about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where more characters pop up and i start doing things in mini arcs that tie some of these prompts together

Uncle Petyr is gone. Not _gone_ gone, but gone for a month on a trip to the Eyrie. What do you know? He _does_ care about Aunt Lysa and cousin Robin. No matter what, it doesn’t make it any better for Sansa. 

Sansa clutches her phone tightly in her hand because the message came not long after saying goodbye to Petyr. And as much as she wants to leave King’s Landing immediately, she has no chance of leaving with her uncle already gone. 

_ How could she be so stupid? Why would she do this to mum and dad?  _

She doesn’t even know what to do because she’s scared but also worried. Her parents are telling her _not_ to worry but she can hear their tired voices and broken spirits. Arya has always been a fighter, an adventurer, and a _bloody trouble maker_. She’s gotten angry at her parents plenty of times; if not because of mum, because of dad, but definitely not to the point of running away. _Especially to gods know where._

What is she supposed to do? She’s hours away from her family. She hasn’t got a clue where her sister would go. They don’t really talk about anything. They argue, of course, but Sansa has no idea what goes on in her sister’s head half of the time. 

“Come on, pick up the phone,” Sansa grumbles into her cellphone. 

There’s a click. 

“ _Hi, this is Arya, obviously I’m not at the phone--_ ”

Sansa groans in frustration before ending the call and then tries again. And again. And again. Until she finally decides to leave a message telling her to call back as soon as possible. 

It doesn’t help much. If anything, it makes her feel helpless. She can’t imagine what Arya feels. _Is she with someone? Is she safe?_

Then her phone starts to ring. 

She quickly looks at the caller and sees Margaery’s face appear with her name over her head. Sansa sighs, it’s not Arya.

She picks up, “Hi, Margaery,” trying to put up a front but finding it difficult. 

The older girl picks up on it easily. “Are you okay?” 

Sansa finds herself at a loss. She’s okay. She’s fine. But at the same time, she’s not. A ball of frustration starts to form in her throat as she struggles to form a thought. She shakes her head when Margaery calls her name again. “I’m fine,” she exhales as she rubs her forehead. “Just--some stuff.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Margaery asks carefully.

Sansa shakes her head before realizing Margaery isn’t there. She bites her lips. “It’s okay...I’m just--” she exhales again to compose herself. “How are you? Did you need something?”

Margaery doesn’t want to let it drop but she knows Sansa well enough to give it time. “I’m good. I was just thinking about you.”

It brings a blush to Sansa’s cheek. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing in particular, I just finished my lesson and wanted to see if you were free?” Again, she speaks to Sansa like she doesn’t want to intrude. But with the way Sansa feels in that moment, lost, frustrated, confused, she wants Margaery to be there.

Her voice is small when she asks, “Can you come over?” She looks around the empty house. “Uncle Petyr is gone and I don’t have any homework this weekend.” She also doesn’t want to be alone.

“Of course,” Margaery answers quickly. “Did you want me to bring over anything?”

Sansa shakes her head again. “No, no, thank you,” she adds quickly. 

Margaery tells her she’ll be there soon and Sansa nods. There’s still a weight in her chest at the thought of her missing sister but it’s so far out of her hands. What more can she do? She tries to busy herself until Margaery gets there. At least there’s one thing she’s sure of, Margaery can make it better.  


	19. You can tell me anything

Sansa doesn’t say a word. It’s not an uncommon occurrence but Margaery’s gotten exceptional with being able to read her best friend’s emotions over the last year. Despite, her sarcastic wit and clever wordplay, Sansa was like any other blossoming teenager girl, awkward, shy, struggling. At times, she was really lady like, quiet, reserved, polite.

That was especially true when Margaery first met her. There was a wall between them, like Sansa didn’t like her at all. It wasn’t a problem because Margaery liked her. As in, she could spot potential from a mile away and like any good person, she wanted to be her friend. 

Today was different. Sansa hasn’t said much since Margaery showed up at her uncle’s place. She’s barely made eye contact. It was as if she’d turn to stone looking at Margaery or something. 

Margaery isn’t sure if she’d done something wrong. It wasn’t often they’d spend time at Petyr’s home but they do hang out on the occasional weekend. 

Sansa keeps her eyes on the movie for the most part, but the rest of her face says it all. The way she bites her lips, furrows her brows, and her eyes turn almost grey when she’s deeply focused. Not only that but she keeps checking her phone. 

Something is wrong. 

“Sansa, sweetling,” Margaery coos as she shifts next to her friend with the pillow on her lap. “Are you alright?” She doesn’t want to force it out of Sansa but she’s worried.

Sansa jumps at Margaery’s proximity. Margaery doesn’t back away though. She wants Sansa to know that she is there for her.

“It’s fine--I’m fine,” Sansa clarifies so quickly as she leans back against the arm of the couch. 

“Honestly?” Margaery gives her a look that she hopes conveys that she knows Sansa is lying to her. “You can tell me anything. You know that right?”

Sansa bites the inside of her cheek. Her eyes avert to her lap. She takes a moment to think. Margaery lets her breathe and find her words. After what feels like forever, Sansa lets out a shuddering breath and shakes her head. Margaery hears a sniffle and ducks her head as she places her hand on Sansa’s visibly shaking shoulder. 

“I don’t know…” Sansa says, sounding shattered. Margaery’s heart tugs. “I--”

Margaery wraps the taller girl up in a hug and lets Sansa cry into her shoulder. She breathes in Sansa and holds her tighter when she struggles to speak. A good amount of time passes without either of them even realizing it. Through it, Margaery can make out what’s bothering Sansa, _her sister? Runaway? Stupid?_

Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on the door. They pull apart from each other. Sansa mumbles her apologies as she rubs her eyes of her tears. Margaery stands with Sansa as she moves to answer the door. 

Sansa opens it to an extremely short girl that looks completely out of place. Her hair is tied in a messy braid. Her clothes are messy with oil and dirt. But when she smiles that’s when Margaery sees it. 

The first thing that comes out of Sansa’s mouth isn’t words of love, it’s what she’s been holding onto that led her to cry in Margaery’s arms. 

“Are you mad?!” she screeches at the young girl and gives her a not so gentle shove. 

Margaery is startled by the sudden aggression. 

“Oy! I was going to contact you, but my phone died,” the other girl says playfully as she hikes up her duffle bag. 

The playfulness isn’t taken lightly because Sansa has pushed the smaller girl again that she almost stumbles onto the ground. Her duffle bag falls to the ground with a thud.

“You left home! Without telling mum and dad? Do you know how _scared_ they are? Do you know how _worried_ they are?” Sansa keeps yelling. Her voice cracked and she hadn’t even realized, but Margaery stands awkwardly in the foyer as she sees Sansa’s back shake. 

“I just needed to get away,” the girl goes on. “Mum and dad don’t get it.”

“So you came here?! I am _four_ hours away from home. How did you even get here?”

“Come on, Sansa, I am looking for some support,” she sounds pleading and desperate. Underneath it, Margaery can hear the sadness in her voice. 

“Arya, you ran away from Winterfell!” Sansa screeches in frustration. “You didn’t tell anyone where you were going. You were being irresponsible and stupid!”

“I’m not stupid okay!” Arya finally snaps. “I’m not stupid! Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

Sansa looks like she’s about to yell again, when Margaery reaches out for her arm to catch her attention. Arya jumps in surprise at Margaery’s appearance. Margaery just looks at Sansa calmly, her hand sliding down to her wrist. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this outside,” Margaery suggests carefully. Sansa looks like she’s about to protest when Margaery turns her attention to Arya. Arya stands with her jaw dropped in surprise. Margaery can see the Stark grey eyes shining with unshed tears. She looks tired and upset. As much as she shouldn’t intervene, it’s clear that there is something going on that Arya isn’t expressing. Her willingness to find a way to Sansa says something though. “Winterfell is a long way from here, why don’t you come have dinner with us?”


	20. I did the dishes

Margaery has had tense dinners before. Dinners with barbed conversation from her grandmother, the Queen of Thorns, undercutting and backhanding politicians, business partners, and god forbid, the neighborhood gossip. She understands tense dinners more than anyone thanks to her mother for putting up with Olenna. 

What she hasn’t wrapped her head around is the passive aggressiveness between family members. Because as much as her grandmother can be a bit brazen with guests, when it comes to her bumbling father, stepford mother, or complicated brothers, she was always straightforward. It would lead to some minor disagreements but in the end, as much as her mother would hate to admit it, it made their family stronger. At the end of the day, they were family. Nothing could get in their way because it came from a source of love. 

Between Sansa and her younger sister, Arya, Margaery can understand how it can be a little different. She doesn’t have a little sister. And while her family was a good size, having to compete with four other children could be difficult for Sansa as the older sister. And a troublemaking sister proves to be a bit difficult to handle if you don’t know what to do.

So their dinner was interesting for Margaery at least because she hasn’t ever seen Sansa interact with her family. She beams over her big brother and her parents, even Bran and Rickon get some love but there’s always disdain with Arya.  

So the conversation is sparse. Arya tries to make a joke of the situation, while Sansa makes snide comments in return.

Margaery didn’t know that Sansa could have it in her. 

“You should shower, you smell like the road,” Sansa says curtly as she moves to clear the table. Margaery gets up to help and so does Arya. “Leave it, dishes aren’t your forte.”

Arya just nods and awkwardly stands there.

Margaery takes the dishes from Sansa. “I’ll take care of them, show your sister where everything is,” she gives a look that Sansa doesn’t challenge. They need to speak to each other. 

Sansa shoots her a glare but listens to Margaery anyways. She leads Arya through the house without looking behind to see Arya throw Margaery a thankful look. 

For Margaery, she sighs as she gathers the rest of the dishes and clears the table. As she begins cleaning them, she wonders if Sansa is going to join her. Margaery hears the shower turn on upstairs but Sansa doesn’t reappear and she wonders if she’s killed the younger Stark because it is relatively quiet. 

When she finishes rinsing the dishes and setting them in the dishwasher, she goes to find Sansa. 

“Mum, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Margaery hears Sansa’s voice as she approaches the living room. Sansa’s back is to her as she stands near the window and talks on the phone. 

“I don’t know? She looks upset, what’s happened?” Sansa goes on. She listens patiently but Margaery can see her lips thin in frustration as the she turns. Margaery does a little wave to catch her attention. “Don’t come tonight, it’s going to be too late. I’ll talk to her.” Sansa quickly says her goodbyes and the call ends. Her shoulders sag as she stands there. 

Margaery looks sadly at her friend. It must be hard being the older sibling. Margaery wishes she could sympathize, but all she does is goes up to Sansa and draws her into a warm hug.

“Sorry about that,” Sansa says, her chin digging into her shoulder. “Just had to let my mum and dad know Arya is here.” She sighs quietly as she holds onto Margaery for support. “I should do the dishes.”

Margaery shakes her head as they pull apart without letting go. “I did the dishes.” Sansa looks like she’s about to protest when Margaery grasps her arms. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” 

Sansa doesn’t look pleased but she looks grateful at Margaery. Drawing in a small breath, she answers, “Arya is upset about something my parents said. Well more or less what my mother’s said, so now I have to talk to her.”

Margaery nods. “Do you need me at all?” Margaery doesn’t want to intrude but she can tell Sansa doesn’t necessarily seem comfortable on her own. 

“Sorry--” 

The two girls turn to see Arya standing at the bottom of the stairs, hair wet, but a lot cleaner than when she first arrived. She stands there awkwardly staring between the two girls before they realize, they’re still holding onto each other. Sansa pulls away slowly. 

“I’m going to assume you called mum?” Arya asks as she pulls at the hem of her t shirt. 

Sansa almost doesn’t want to answer. “Yeah, they’re coming tomorrow.”

Arya nods wordlessly as if she’s resigned to the fact. She bites the inside of her cheek. It looks like she’s a lot calmer than when she first arrived but Margaery can tell that she still has something to say.

“I should go,” Margaery says as she walks over to the couch, where her jacket is. “You two seem like you have a lot to talk about.”

Sansa almost wants to protest but she nods after Margaery, walking her to the door. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Margaery says to Arya from the door. 

Arya waves with a small smile. “It was nice to meet you too.”

Sansa’s opened the door for her. Before Margaery steps out, she’s enveloped in another hug that Sansa sighs into. “Thank you, for being here,” she whispers. 

“Of course,” Margaery says with a small rub of her back before they let go. 

“Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.” Margaery looks over at Arya, who has started to explore the living room quietly. “Go easy on her, it’s not easy having older siblings.”

Sansa looks over her shoulder and nods. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”


	21. Don't worry about me

Margaery is working on her homework when she gets a call from Sansa. It’s late in the day so she’s assuming that her parents have already come and gone with her sister. 

“Hello?”

The voice that responds to her is definitely not Sansa. “ _Hello_!” There’s a bit of verve and life in Arya’s voice as she practically hollers into the phone. Margaery doesn’t quite respond, unsure of how to. “Sorry, Sansa is talking to mum and dad, so I stole her phone.”

Margaery laughs. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done that,” she jokes in return, remembering Sansa’s text message that was unintentionally sent to her. 

Arya returns the laugh. “Yah...I do that..” There’s an awkward silence between the two for a brief moment.

“Did you intend to call me?”

“Oh uh _wow_ , you sound as pretty as you look,” Arya makes an awkward strangling sound immediately after saying that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” There’s a low slap and Margaery can only imagine it’s Arya slapping her forehead. 

Margaery honestly gets a kick out of that. There are some shared traits between the two girls. Margaery can’t help but wonder if anyone else in the Stark family stumbles over their words. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Right, right,” Arya breathes out. Margaery patiently waits. “Listen, I just wanted to say thank you. I’m sure Sansa was going to kill me at least three times, but you were there and she didn’t, so...thanks.”

“It’s nothing I can take credit for,” Margaery responds even though her heart swells at the kind words. “I’m glad to hear you’re in better spirits.”

“Yah, Sans and me talked. Said if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t know what to do.”

Margaery furrows her brow. “I didn’t do anything really.”

“Well you did, you’re a nice girlf--”

“ _Are you on my phone_?!” Sansa interrupts from a distance. 

“Yah-it’s just Margae--”

“Oh my god! Why are you calling her? Give me that!”

“I just wanted to say, thank--” 

There’s a scuffle on the other end that Margaery finds herself laughing at. 

“Give it, Arya! She’s _my_ friend!”

Margaery purses her lips. _Are we really just friends, Sansa?_ She keeps it to herself though as she waits to listen for the victor. 

“A-ha!” 

There’s a brief pause.

“Go on, then! I’ll be down in a minute,” Sansa’s voice is loud and clear. Of course, she would be the victor. One day, Margaery hopes to bear witness to one of these Stark sisters’ fights. After a yell from Arya, Sansa’s attention is back to her. “Sorry about that. My sister--”

“I understand,” Margaery interjects, not wanting Sansa to waste her time explaining herself. “Is it safe to assume everything went well?”

Sansa exhales as if a massive weight has been lifted off her chest. “I’m not sure to be honest,” Sansa says quietly. “My sister and I are fine but she talked to my parents at least. It’s---” Sansa stops speaking for a moment. Margaery understands. It’s a family matter and if Sansa wants to talk about it, she can, but otherwise, Margaery isn’t a Stark. “We’ll see how things turn out soon,” Sansa sounds hopeful. 

“I’m glad you and Arya talked, I’m sure she had a lot to talk about,” Margaery chimes in. “That’s always the first step in the right direction.”

Sansa makes a sound of agreement. “I wanted to say thank you by the way,” her voice small again, but this time a little shy. 

“Another thank you? You Starks sure know how to spoil a girl,” Margaery cheekily teases. She always did enjoy teasing Sansa just to see the redness in her cheeks. Margaery waits for the day Sansa’s cheeks turn as red as her hair. 

“Stop it, I mean it,” Sansa insists. “Thank you for being here for me and putting up with that mess last night.”

“What mess?” 

“Har- _har_. You know what I am talking about.”

“I could hardly call you a mess. It’s not an easy situation to be put in.”

Sansa exhales. “Can you just let me thank you like a normal person?”

Margaery stares in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Just say, ‘you’re welcome,’ like a normal person who gets thanked. Not be extra supportive and humble. I know you Margaery, you take credit where credit due.”

Margaery shrugs with a smile to herself. Of course, she takes credit for her work, but this isn’t just work that she’s done on her own. Sansa has a part in this relationship. “Fine, then, you’re welcome, it really wasn’t a big deal.” 

Sansa groans in frustration that it makes Sansa laugh. “Marg!” she whines only making Sasna laugh harder. Sansa’s whining is interrupted with a low voice from the other side. Margaery listens for a moment before Sansa goes on, “I’m sorry I have to go. Mum and Dad want to have dinner before they head out. Are you going to be alright?”

Margaery shakes her head at how Sansa is asking her if she’s going to be alright. “Don’t worry about me. Go spend time with your family.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Margaery smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	22. Cross my heart and hope to die

Sansa scrolls through the internet with growing gloom as her nearly finished milkshake starts to warm. She props her cheek on one fist and sighs as she keeps scrolling. For a big place like King’s Landing, you’d think it would be easier to find a job, but clearly, it is more difficult for a high schooler. Sansa feels a bit offended that she’s considered inexperienced but fine, she’s young. 

It’s not really working to her advantage to have so many years ahead of her. 

“Why’re you lookin’ glum, little wolf?” Ros asks as she replaces her warm milkshake for a fresh one. Sansa protests the order, not wanting to spend money for another one. “On the house, love. Not a problem.” The young girl smiles thankfully as the waitress goes on, rounding the counter to sidle up beside her. “Looking for a job then?”

Sansa nods shyly. It’s not something she wants to share with the whole world, but it seems unavoidable in the future. She knows that. “I’m just not entirely sure where to start. I feel like it’d be a lot easier in Winterfell.”

“There’s always work in Winterfell,” Ros says with a reminiscent smile. 

Sansa shoots her a quirked look. “You’re from Winterfell?” 

“Born and raised,” the older girl says with her chest puffed with pride. It warms Sansa’s heart to see another Northerner. She’s kind of disappointed she hadn’t noticed sooner. “Of course, I came to King’s Landing, greener pastures and all.”

“And have you found them?” Sansa asks with curiosity. 

“Not yet,” there’s a small disappointment in her voice that almost leaves Sansa feeling hopeless, but Ros smiles nevertheless, “but I’ve got some friends I can rely on.” She bumps the young girl’s shoulder playfully. 

The door to the diner jingles and both of them turn to see Margaery walking in, more like striding hastily (she’s far too lady like to rush in), with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail wearing a thin sweater and tight leggings. Even after what seems to be a long run, Margaery still looks fantastic--at least to Sansa.

Margaery looks directly at Sansa and smiles. Without a second thought, Margaery makes her way to Sansa, sidling up on the other side of her comfortably. “Morning, love,” she greets happily. “Morning, Ros.”

Ros rolls her eyes. “Margaery,” she drolls causing Sansa to stifle a laugh. She shoots Sansa a look of disbelief, like a cheerful disposition would win her over. 

“Looking for a job?” Margaery asks as she notices Sansa’s computer. 

Sansa quickly shuts her laptop and pulls it away from Margaery as she sheepishly looks down. “No, not really,” she tries to lie. 

“Problem?” Ros chimes in. 

“No! I was just curious.” Margaery looks at Sansa with a quirked look. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine, little one, nothing Sansa can’t handle.”

“I’m sure of it, but I just to make sure,” Margaery speaks to Sansa because she’s terrified if she talks directly to the waitress but also because she’s genuinely concerned. She always is. She gently places a hand on Sansa’s back. 

Just as Ros is about to make a quip. Sansa shoots the older woman a look. “It’s fine, Ros,” she says softly. “I was going to tell her anyways.” Ros gives her a look that Sansa tries to ameliorate with a reassuring nod. 

The bell dings for an order and Ros is back on her feet. She rounds the counter and shoots Margaery a look before going back to work. 

“Why does she hate me?” Margaery asks the minute Ros is out of earshot. 

Sansa bites her lip to stop from laughing once more. “She doesn’t hate you,” she tries soothing Margaery’s pride. “She just takes a bit of warming up to.”

Margaery isn’t convinced, considering Ros looks about ready to slice her open on sight. Maybe one day she’ll figure out why Ros doesn’t like her. Until then, she’ll pout about it and focus on why she’s really there. “So, you were going to tell me something?” she redirects.

“Oh.” Sansa nods. It wasn’t that she was ashamed. There are plenty of reasons why high schoolers need to work, stability, responsibility, character growth and all that. However, for a girl from Winterfell, going to an academy that costs an arm and a leg for tuition, Sansa can’t help but feel a bit ashamed. It’s 99% of the reason she doesn’t want to tell her most glamorous, not to mention wealthy, best friend her family’s financial situation. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?” Sansa asks earnestly as she grabs on Margaery’s hands.

Margaery looks at her as if that is the most absurd thing to ask of her. She softens though because she has no problem reassuring Sansa of the status of their friendship. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she returns as earnestly, gesturing a cross over heart. 

“God, you’re such a nerd,” Sansa says as she lets go of her friend’s hand. She notices the milkshake on the counter and takes a sip of it before it gets too warm. She takes a breath before looking at Margaery once more. “Margaery, you know that Winterfell is much different from King’s Landing.” The older girl nods, more or less understanding the prelude to Sansa’s story. “My family, despite the acres and acres of land we own, and history that we have, we’re not exactly in a situation that would otherwise afford living in King’s Landing. Sending me to school here was a bit of struggle and next year, tuition’s gone up.” 

Margaery’s furrowed her brow. “First, I’ve heard of it…why would they raise tuition when there are no new facilities or programs being added? Sorry, go on.”

“Next year, Arya wants to come to KLA.”

“Arya wants to come to KLA?” 

Sansa nods. “I am not entirely sure why she wants to come here, but if she pulls up her grades by the end of the semester and prove she’ll really excel, my parents will consider letting her come here.” 

Margaery looks impressed. If there are doubts, she doesn’t express them. 

“Once Arya sets her mind to something, she follows through on it. It’s one of the traits she’s inherited as a Stark.”

“Stubbornness?” 

“Shush you. I am not stubborn if that’s what you’re implying.”

Margaery laughs. “As I recall, you begged your parents to come here as well. So it definitely runs in the family.” The redhead scoffs. “Alright, so because Arya wants to come here, you have to start looking for a job?” 

Sansa nods. “I just--I just want to help my family out. Money isn’t easy to come by and Arya will definitely be coming here, so that means tuition for the both of us. On top of that, in 2 and a half years, I’ll be going to university and that’ll be even more money. Especially if Robb, decides to go to graduate school.” There’s a small sigh Sansa releases, if not to alleviate the stress. 

“Sansa, if you need anything--”

If there’s one thing that Sansa doesn’t need is pity, which is why she straightens her back and shakes her thoughts away. “It’s for my family and my future, you know?” 

When she looks at the older girl, Margaery stares at her with concern more than anything else. 

“Are you going to have time for a job?” the concern is definitely evident in her voice and the look in her eyes shows Sansa that there are million thoughts running through her mind. 

Sansa nods as confidently as she can. “I’m going to have to make some time for it. As soon as I can actually find a job.”   

Margaery doesn’t argue with her. Instead, she throws an arm around the taller girl’s shoulder and opens up the laptop again. “Come on, I am sure we can find something.” 

There’s a slap on the counter and Ros is standing before them, hand pressing down on a menu that clearly is for Margaery. The older woman glares at Margaery, who stares in confusion, before her eyes flit to the arm she’s got around Sansa. Margaery’s cheeks turn pink as she slowly removes her arm from Sansa’s shoulder and shifts to a more modest distance. Sansa looks down once more as she pushes her hair behind her ear. 

“No need to look Sansa,” Ros says as she hands a piece of paper to the young girl. 

Sansa looks up in confusion as she takes the piece of paper. It’s an application for the diner. 

“Talked to me manager, could use an extra set of hands here,” the older woman goes on with a careless shrug. “It’ll be easy for you, considering you’re here all the time anyways.”

Sansa brightens. “Honest?” she asks hopefully, eyes wide in wonder that Ros would do this for her. 

Ros nods. “Just make sure you fill that out and give us your parent’s or guardian’s permission and we’ll get you set up soon.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Ros just shrugs. Again, like it’s not a big deal for anyone. “Anything for a Stark,” Then she shoots another look at Margaery, almost rudely asking, “So what do you want then?” 

Margaery stutters, looking away from Sansa and down at the menu. “Just a moment.”

Ros takes this opportunity while Margaery isn’t looking to wiggle her eyebrows playfully at Sansa. Sansa laughs to herself. 


	23. I'll see you later

”Do you think her parents miss her?” Ros asks quietly as she comes up next to Sansa. 

Sansa glances at Ros in confusion as she gets her order for table 4 ready. She pulls the ticket to double check the order to make sure that everything is there. “What’re you talking about?” Sansa asks absently. 

Beside her, Ros is scooping up ice into cups and readying drinks for the large group of college students filing in. It’s a busy night at the diner and both of them are pulling a longer shift than they usually do. While Ros takes it in stride, Sansa is starting to feel a little frazzled because she has an exam on Monday. Despite scheduling her weekend to study, with busy shifts like this, that she’s volunteered for because there are just so many opportunities for tips that she can’t turn away, Sansa doesn’t seem hopeful that she’ll be able to study. 

“Your girlfriend,” Ros jests good naturedly with a tap at Sansa’s shoulder. She points over Sansa’s shoulder and there the older girl is, sitting at the end of the counter, with her laptop and textbook out. Margaery of course easily concentrates through the loud, drunk college students that file in and out.

Sansa feels her ears turn red when Margaery feels her eyes staring because Margaery looks up at her with a gentle smile on her face. While it’s completely innocent, Sansa can’t help but feel as if Margaery knows when Ros is gossiping to her. Without realizing it, Sansa raises her hand in a weak wave. 

The bell dings again and Sansa goes back to focusing on making sure her orders are ready. 

“Why wouldn’t her parents miss her?” Sansa deflects easily. As much as she’s told Ros that Margaery is nothing more than a great _friend_ , the older woman is still insistent that they are in fact _dating_. Three out of four orders and she peers over the small window to see some progress. Hot Pie and Gendry are flying around the kitchen with ease. 

“She’s here just as long as you are,” Ros goes on, pushing for soda quickly. “You’d think her parents would call the police thinking she’s missing.”

“Margaery is very good at informing her parents on her whereabouts, not that they have much to worry about,” Sansa defends as Gendry drops her last order on the window sill. 

“Margaery’s parents should be worried to be honest,” Gendry says with a smirk on his face. “Have you seen her? _Gorgeous, smart._ You can’t tell me she doesn’t go to parties on the weekends that are downright---”

“ _Don’t_ finish that sentence,” Sansa slaps his arm threateningly before taking the plate and placing it on the tray. While Margaery is the poster child of both KLA and her home, Gendry isn’t far from wrong, she does enjoy a spot of debauchery now and then. But no one needs to air out Margaery’s business. “Margaery is just here to pick me up.”

Gendry gives her a look that causes Ros to throw a rag at him. He disappears from the window sill back to cooking with a laugh. As thankful as Sansa is for Ros, Ros also shoots her a suggestive look at what Sansa’s said. 

With a roll of her eyes, Sansa grabs the tray for the orders and quickly makes her way to the table. She delivers the order not without a few snide remarks and an inappropriate gaze up and down her body. If Ros didn’t teach her how to turn a cheek on those customers, Sansa would be out of a job. So she smiles, holds her head high, and makes her rounds. On her way back, Sansa checks in on Margaery, who looks deeply engrossed in taking notes for her High Valyrian course. That is one language she will not be taking. 

“Hi, did you need anything?” 

Margaery looks up from her text with a graceful smile. “Ros  _just_ checked in on me, getting me some more water and some pancakes. Said something about me looking too thin for my own good.” 

Sansa laughs. “She says that about me too,” she responds as she mindlessly wipes the counter around Margaery’s set up. 

“You’re perfect.” Sansa looks up at Margaery giving her a small smile before leaning a bit forward. “But I have to admit, if I keep having pancakes, I’ll probably revert back to being an adorable piglet, so my cousins say.”

“That’s absurd. You-you’re--”

Margaery taps her nose with her pencil. “Not all of us are blessed with beautiful hair and angelic faces like yours Sansa.” She shoots Sansa a wink. 

“Alright, here you are, pancakes,” Ros announces herself. Margaery’s eyes widen at the stack of five pancakes sitting on the plate before her. “Problem?”

Margaery shakes her head. “No, not at all,” she responds as smoothly as she can, “luckily, I have fencing in the morning. So I’ll have plenty of energy.” She sets her textbook aside and reaches for the fork and knife. “Thank you.” 

Ros seems to nod her approval but Sansa can see the clenched fist at her side. Margaery has always been polite and kind in Ros’ presence, not that she wasn’t already like that, but she is extra polite because she just wants to be on the older woman’s good side. Meanwhile, Ros just likes to make things difficult for Margaery because she’s looking out for Sansa. 

“So I couldn’t help but notice that it’s getting pretty late,” Sansa says as she glances at the clock. It’s nearing 11 o'clock but here Margaery is.

Margaery looks up at the clock as well and nods in agreement. “You weren’t kidding when you said today would be a long night for you,” she comments playfully as she finishes a pancake. 

Sansa purses her lips. “If you need to be somewhere, you--don’t have to stay. I can find a ride home.” 

The older girl shakes her head as she digs into her second pancake. “It’s not a problem, Sansa, I’m just doing homework.” She cuts it meticulously before folding it nicely. “Unless you _want_ me to go?” 

Sansa shakes her head quickly. She’d never want Margaery to go but, “I just don’t want to hold you up. I know you said Obara invited you over for a party tonight.” 

Nevertheless Margaery shrugs and without even realizing it, she’s on her third pancake. “I rather be here than at Obara’s party. Trust me. Parties are a lot less fun if you aren’t there.” 

Sansa shoots her a look, “You’re just being nice. We both know you know how to have fun in all settings.”

The older girl rolls her eyes. It’s a habit that she’s seemed to pick up from Sansa. “I can,” she agrees honestly as she cuts into her pancake. “But I want to be here, make sure you get home safe and sound.” To emphasize her point, Margaery puts down her knife and reaches for Sansa’s hand to stop cleaning. It’s warm and comforting that Sansa can’t help but hold her hand in return. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

It’s almost 1am by the time things start to die down. Sansa works quickly to clean up the booths as Ros cleans up the counter seats and takes care of the register and Hot Pie and Gendry clear the kitchen and the garbage. Margaery clears up her things into her backpack and offers to wait in the car as Sansa finishes up. 

“Good job today,” Ros says as she hands Sansa her tips for the night. “Let me know if that Bolton boy gives you more trouble. I’ll take care of it.”

Sansa groans outwardly as she takes the money. “It’s fine, Ros. I can take care of it,” Sansa says confidently, wishing she’d feel the same way. Luckily, he doesn’t come in too often, but when he does her skin crawls like there are a million legs touching her. “Thank you for this by the way.” 

The older redhead looks confused. “For what?” 

Sansa shrugs. “The job, teaching me, looking out, I really appreciate it,” she says simply as she slips on Margaery’s letterman. 

“We look after our own,” Ros reaffirms with a smile on her face. “Now go, Maggie is going to fall asleep in the car waiting for you.”

The young Stark scrunches up her nose at the nickname. “Margaery would hate that nickname.” 

“Good, I’ll try it on her next time she comes round.” 

When Sansa gets into the car, Margaery is stifling a yawn as she sits up straight in the driver seat. 

It brings a frown to Sansa’s face. How can Margaery wait for her to get off her shifts so often without getting bored? She has a life, Sansa understands that, but she’s always there for her, which Sansa doesn’t understand. 

Margaery still smiles at her though as they pull out of the lot. The ride isn’t too far but at around 1am, it feels like forever as Sansa tries to stay awake through the exhaustion. The warm air of the heater keeps her comfortable as Margaery drives, eyes attentive to the road, only glancing at her during stop lights.

Honestly, she doesn’t know when she falls asleep. It’s only when the car comes rolling to a stop and there’s a warm hand on her cheek that Sansa wakes up. 

Sansa places her hand over Margaery’s warm one, reveling in it as she sits up. “Sorry, I fell asleep,” she rasps. She lets out a low groan at her husky voice that occurs late in the night. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Margaery says as her thumb absently massages Sansa’s cheek bone. 

“Did you want to sleep over?” Sansa asks as she takes Margaery’s hand in her own. 

It must have been something outside. The street lights shining gently through the windows of Margaery’s car, or idle LED light from the radio and dashboard, or the way the light reflects off the misty darkness that makes Margaery look so beautiful. Sansa can only stare at the smoothness of Margaery’s skin and admire the shadows where her cheekbones dive to her jawline. As dark as it is, Margaery’s eyes are still piercing, shimmering in the dark as she stares at Sansa.

“Not tonight,” Margaery whispers back almost apologetically as she leans into Sansa’s space Sansa doesn’t move, doesn’t even hesitate because for some reason she doesn’t mind. Margaery being close in this moment doesn’t make her panic or make her worried. “I have fencing tomorrow morning.” 

“Will I see you after?” Sansa asks, trying not to be needy. She has work anyways, so if Margaery can’t make it it’s not a big deal. 

“Apparently Willas and Garlan want to see me compete, so it’s a huge family affair now,” Margaery sighs with a roll of her eyes. She’s _definitely_ picked up that habit from Sansa. “I’ll text you.”

“You best text me a picture of your uniform,” Sansa demands playfully as she squeezes her friend’s hand. 

“Just my uniform? Because I look much better than that stuffy thing.” 

Sansa wants to respond but her mouth opens wide for a yawn. It’s a bit embarrassing as she lets go of Margaery’s hand to cover her mouth. 

“Alright, princess, time for bed,” Margaery jokes. 

Sansa nods in agreement, before she reaches across the gearshift and pulls Margaery into a hug. It’s cramped and a little uncomfortable but Margaery doesn’t seem to mind it. Although, Sansa wonders if it was a bit much and when Margaery’s hand comes up to stroke her hair gently, Sansa knows it’s fine. 

When they pull away, Sansa feels Margaery’s lips against her cheek that warms her body. “Goodnight, Margaery,” she says as she gathers her bag. 

Margaery nods in agreement. “I’ll see you later.” It sounds like a promise, despite how busy Margaery’s weekend is looking. 

Sansa bites her lip and responds, “I’ll see you later.” 


	24. It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a bit of fluff before the next couple of chapter story arcs which i hope i will release within the week :)

“Do you need some help?” 

Sansa screams as she slams back into the dumpster and drops the two trash bins she struggled to drag into the back. She struggles to catch her breath at the sudden figure in the back parking lot. 

“Margaery!” she screams in disbelief. “What are you doing here?!” Her heart pumping a million pints per minute and all she can do is stare at how Margaery is casually standing there, leaning against her car. 

It’s just past 10pm and Margaery looks like she’s going to practice in her KLA sweatpants and white t-shirt. 

Margaery pushes off her car and walks towards Sansa. “I am here to pick you up,” she informs, ducking her head with a look on her face as if saying that would help Sansa remember. “You texted me earlier today?” 

Sansa finally feels the adrenaline dissipate through her veins as she stands up straight. “I forgot, I’m sorry,” she says as she bends down lift the trashcans to stand. Margaery is right beside her, helping to pick up the other one. “I’ve got it.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Margaery brushes off as she drags the trash can beside Sansa. “It’s the least I can do for scaring you.” 

The redhead can’t help but narrow her eyes. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be _lurking_ back here like some cat.”

“Aww, I’d be the cutest cat though,” the older girl responds playfully earning a gentle push.

“Seriously, I was terrified! You can’t go around doing that to people.” 

“Well, lucky for you it’s just me. Meaning I am more of a savior than a creep.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Says the one lurking in the back lot waiting for an _unsuspecting_ young girl to appear.” 

Margaery opens her mouth, but pauses to take in Sansa’s words. With a laugh and shake of her head, “Well, when you put it like that...technically, I wouldn’t be back here had you not texted me for a ride.” 

Sansa grunts as she struggles to lift the heavy trash can up to haul into the dumpster. 

“Alright there, let me help,” Margaery says as she prevents Sansa from another trash disaster. Some of the bags already have holes from when Sansa dropped them after being startled by Margaery.

“They’re heavy, be careful,” Sansa warns as she moves to help Margaery. 

“It’s not heavy.” 

The older girl doesn’t seem to listen as she squats down to slightly tip the trash can and get a good grip underneath. It’s only then that Sansa sees the curves of Margaery’s arms, her biceps flex, as Margaery hauls the trash can with ease over the edge of the dumpster. When Margaery turns, Sansa sees the muscles of her back strain through the t-shirt and she has to wonder why that t-shirt suddenly looks so _tight_ on Margaery. 

Margaery shakes the trash can for good measure before dropping the trash can back down. There’s a humored look on her face as she squats down for the other trash can. 

Sansa feels her jaw drop, unconsciously staring at Margaery’s perfect figure as she squats. Through her sweatpants, Sansa can see the outline of Margaery’s hips and ass. It’s not like she intends to but it’s right before her.

Margaery hauls the second can over the edge of the dumpster again and empties it out, while Sansa stands uselessly there, staring. 

The younger girl doesn’t realize she’s staring until Margaery brushes the dirt of her hands with a smirk directed at Sansa. 

“I told you,” Margaery says cheekily.

Sansa remembers to shut her mouth as she furrows her brow to Margaery’s statement. “Told me what?” 

“It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.” There’s a shit eating grin on her face as she says it. 

Sansa skips the blushing and rolls her eyes. “ _Clearly_.” She moves to grab the emptied cans. “Thank you though.” 

“No problem,” Margaery says with a salute. “Do you need any other help?” 

“Nope, I’ll be out in a minute.” Or maybe five, Sansa thinks to herself, desperately hoping Margaery didn’t notice Sansa staring at her the whole time. _I mean it’s not like I was_ checking _her out, I just happened to notice how... **fit** she is._ _It’s fine, Sansa, don’t drive yourself mad over this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sansa das gay


	25. Have a good day at work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its about to get real emotional up in this bitch until chapter 28 just so you know

If Sansa was asked if she liked working, she’d say yes. For what it was, working at the diner Sansa was not only making money but also in good company. The hours were flexible and worked well with her school schedule. Granted, there were some nights after drama practice that she’d like to just go home and do her homework before crawling into bed, the extra hours during the week helped a great deal in her savings. 

However, there were times where Sansa found it difficult to be at work. Her mind wandering to other things she could be doing, other _places_ she could be. As much as Ros encourages her to be a teenage girl and spend less time working, Sansa feels like she has the momentum to keep saving because she knows it’s going to get tougher as graduation looms. While her siblings all have explored options outside of school, like the army, technical school, or just plain working, Sansa wants to do _more_ ; she just doesn’t know exactly what yet. 

Regardless, Sansa is a high school girl with high school friends that do high school things like study, hang out, and party. Things that don’t involve the future because the future is now. 

Sansa throws the apron over her head. 

“Sansa…” the voice is sweet and kind as it practically sings for Sansa. 

Sansa tugs the apron over and ties it as she whirls to the voice. Alayaya, her and her gorgeous Summer Island skin and slim beautiful curves, approaches her with a mischievous smile on her face. Sansa knows that look, she’s seen Alayaya use it on Ros plenty of times, not that Ros really minds-- _nor that it’s any of Sansa’s business_ , but it simply means the young woman wants something. 

“Alayaya,” Sansa greets happily in return. As intimidatingly pretty Alayaya can be, Sansa does not mind working with her at all. “Did you need something?”

“Aw, don’t just assume that I need something just because I am saying your name,” Alayaya says with a pout as she leans against the counter. 

Sansa just raises her eyebrows playfully. 

The older woman scoffs in resignation easily. “Fine...I just need a favor from you as all.”

Without even thinking, Sansa agrees, “Sure, what do you need?” 

Alayaya looks massively relieved as she answers, “Do you mind covering my shift Friday night? My mum is coming to town and she can be a bit overbearing. I’m sure you understand how that can be.”

Sansa bites the inside of her cheek because she’s kind of stopped listening. It was going to be the first Friday she’d have off in three weeks. On the one hand, she volunteered for Fridays because she’d always make the most money. On the other hand, she should take it off, go be a normal teenager, go have fun, do what they do. Maybe finally spend time with Margaery at a party instead of hearing about it Saturday afternoon. 

“Sansa? Is it alright?” Alayaya asks with this shimmering look in her pretty dark chocolate eyes. She looks so hopeful and at her wits end. 

So Sansa bites the bullet. “Sure, that should be fine.” It’s just another weekend. Besides, Alayaya will owe her one at some point. 

“Thanks, Sansa! I knew you’d say yes!” Alayaya pulls her into a tight hug before Sansa can even react. Luckily, the older girl doesn’t see Sansa’s frown.

\--------------------

“Do I seem like a pushover?” 

Margaery stops typing at her laptop and looks over at Sansa in confusion. “I’m sorry?” 

Sansa pouts as she drops her book on her lap and throws her head back against the headboard with a low thump. “Ow!”

Margaery laughs as she sits up against the headboard next to Sansa. “You did that to yourself.” As Sansa rubs the back of her head, surely embarrassed, Margaery reaches for one of the pillows she’s thrown on the ground to make space for the two of them and shoves it behind Sansa’s head. “Here, stop being a baby.” 

Sansa pouts even hard as she takes the pillow and adjusts it. “I’m not being a baby.”

“Mm hmm.” The older girl narrows her eyes before closing her laptop halfway. “Now what was this about you being a pushover?”

Sansa rolls her eyes, more at herself than anyone else. “It’s just today, Alayaya asked me to cover one of her shifts and I said yes.” Margaery doesn’t say another word and lets Sansa elaborate. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal for me to take her shift but it just sort of seemed like she _expected_ it?” 

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because she said she knew I’d say yes,” Sansa pouts with her arms crossed. “She’s right though, I did say yes, but honestly a part of me didn’t really want to. Alayaya is probably the only ones that ever asks for her shifts to be covered at the last minute or leaves fifteen minutes early. I understand she lives on the other side of town but sometimes, I really _don’t_ care...” She shakes her head more at herself than anything. “I feel bad for thinking that but I thought it’d be nice to have Friday off, you know?”

Margaery opens her mouth to say something but then pauses to think about it for a second. “Wait, are you covering her _this_ Friday?” 

“Yes...her mum is coming into town.”

The older girl suddenly throws her head back with a groan. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

Margaery grumbles a bit that Sansa has to bite back a laugh. These are the moments that Sansa can see how Margaery is the youngest child in the Tyrell household. “It’s just that, Loras told me he was hosting a party on campus and invited me to go. I was going to bring you as my plus one!”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Sansa practically yells in surprise as she bounces on the bed to face Margaery. “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to go out?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise. You’ve been working so hard, I thought it’d be nice to get away from here and meet new people, see my brother, hang out,” Margaery deflates next to Sansa as she explains. “Is it too late to say you can’t cover?” She looks like she almost doesn’t want to ask. 

Sansa very much wishes that Margaery’s hadn’t asked. She isn’t the type to go back on her word. Even if it is for someone that was significantly less important than Margaery. She sighs. 

The older girl simply reaches for her hand comfortingly, understanding that Sansa wouldn’t do that to Alayaya. Mainly because Margaery could spot how hot of a mess the older girl was. There’s a small hopeful smile on her face as she says, “Darn you for being a pushover.” 

“Ugh.” Sansa rolls her eyes and reaches behind her to whack Margaery with a pillow. “Jerk.” Margaery laughs in response.  

“ _Have a good day at work_ ,” Margaery croons playfully poking at her cheek. 

“I hate you so much,” Sansa says as she drops her head on Margaery’s shoulder. 

“Aw, no you don’t,” Margaery says as she reaches for Sansa’s hand. “I could always fake an emergency to get you out of work.”

“Don’t.” Sansa nudges Margaery disapprovingly. “I don’t want to leave Ros to cover all by herself.” She can’t help but stare at the way their hands meld to fit one another. It’s the only touch that Sansa seems to find comfort in consistently.

“Well, if that’s the case, I can _definitely_ fake an emergency.”

“Margaery!” Sansa can’t help but scold. She understands that they’re pseudo adversaries but that’s just downright cruel. 

“I’m kidding, I’m _kidding_!” Margaery says holding on more tightly to Sansa’s hand to stop her from pulling away. “You know I wouldn’t do that to Ros. At least on purpose.” 

“Margaery…”

“Sansa, you know I’m jesting,” Margaery affirms as she turns on her side. They both slide down on the bed so they’re lying facing one another. “Besides, _Alayaya_ is the real problem here.” Sansa widens her eyes at Margaery’s implication. “Not that I would do anything! I am just saying, if there ever was a time that it was just you and Alayaya at the diner, I could be in some serious accident that would pull you away from work.”

Sansa frowns extremely disapprovingly. “That’s not very nice, Margaery. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

The older girl lifts their hands between them as situates herself on her pillow. “I really wish you could come on Friday now.”

Sansa pouts. “Me too.” She means it.

Margaery exaggerates a sigh and returns a pout. “I _suppose_  I’ll just have to have enough fun for the both of us.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sansa jokes as she tugs Margaery’s hand closer to her. 

Margaery sighs as she stares into Sansa’s blue eyes. Sansa stares in return, warming at the way Margaery looks at her. “I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.” She really means it.


	26. Call me when you get home

Sansa’s had a weird day. Something feels off ever since she woke up. Her dream was pretty normal, if being buried under a pile of costumes and hearing lines rehearsed in her head over and over was considered normal. Through it all though, Sansa couldn’t help but feel like something was amiss. And that usually meant something bad was happening, like when she dreamt about swimming in the middle of the ocean with her family when suddenly they all disappeared and then a large Kraken wrapped its arms around her waist and pulled her into the deep. That was strange but the next day, Sansa had the worst cramps in the history of her having cramps.

Margaery pulls up to the diner but she doesn’t cut the engine that Sansa nearly forgets. Today isn’t one of the days that Margaery is going to accompany her to work. Not that Sansa ever expects her to. Not that Margaery does it all the time. But it feels unusual, meaning she’s gotten far to used to Margaery’s presence at work. It makes dealing with Ramsay Bolton and his lot easier.

Margaery unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to Sansa with a smirk on her face. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want me to fake an emergency?” She is half joking but half serious. Sansa can tell by the glint in her eyes. 

The younger girl shakes her head. She’s already said yes, she can’t back out now. “It’s fine, Margaery, honestly,” she lies straight through her teeth. _Of course, it’s not fine._ She’d love to spend time with Margaery than cover a shift that wasn’t hers to begin with. But there were more important things, good things. “Maybe Ros will have pity on me and we won’t have to split tips tonight.” 

“Always looking at the bright side of things,” Margaery comments almost proudly. She smiles at Sansa so sweetly that Sansa can’t help but blush in return. 

“Well, it’s to make up for the fact that _someone_ ,” she stares pointedly at the older girl, “can have all the fun, while _I_ slave away at work.”

“We can hang out tomorrow,” Margaery says hopefully. She’s excited because it’s her rare Saturday morning off from fencing. “ _Oh oh!_ My mum has a new shipment of flowers that she wants to try growing, you can help me take care of that.” 

Sansa scrunches up her nose. “Oh god, you’re such a nerd.” She smiles in spite of herself because Margaery playfully pushes at her. “Are you even going to be up that early? You might be too hungover.”

“Hangovers are for the _weak_ ,” Margaery declares haughtily. “I’ve been blessed with the superpower of not getting hangovers and intend to use it wisely.”

“Please be careful,” Sansa adds additionally. She knows the older girl can take care of herself but she’s technically going to a party with a bit of an older crowd. Granted her brother Loras will be there and of course, Renly, but that’s no excuse not to be careful. 

“I know, Sansa, you know I’m always careful.” The words are a gentle reminder, but Margaery’s hand slipping into hers just reassures her. “I will send you constant messages to let you know what a _fun_ _time_ I’m having.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “I hate you so much.”

“Haha! No you don’t!” Margaery says as she leans in. “Try not to miss me too hard.” 

“If my life depended on it,” Sansa jokingly responds. She looks out the window to see Ros making eye contact with her before jerking her head at Margaery. _Is she giving you trouble?_ Is what the look on her face is saying causing Sansa to laugh. “Alright, I should go, Ros is giving you a dirty look.”

Margaery looks out the window and indeed, the older red head is staring at her with daggers before she lifts a butter knife up threateningly. She sends the woman a cheeky smile regardless because she is absolutely not afraid of her. Then she looks at Sansa who is getting out of the car. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

Sansa stares back in confusion before Margaery taps her cheek. Just like that she blushes so furiously. “You're so needy,” she mutters but obliging, leaning across the gearshift.

“Oh, I'm needy?? Says the one who--” Margaery sasses turning to Sansa, without realizing how close she is and suddenly, she stops mid sass with Sansa's lips at the corner of her lips.

Sansa pauses too, suddenly and unsure, because they always sass one another and kiss each other's cheeks. But she can practically _feel_ how soft Margaery’s lips are, even if they're just the corner. She wants to feel them completely against her own.

Her whole body warms and she pulls back to see Margaery’s almost dazed look. Then the words start spilling out of her mouth, “I’ll see you later, have fun, don't do anything stupid, not that you're stupid, but just be safe! I will text you, or you'll text me, I'll respond if it's not busy---call me when you get home! BYE!” 

Sansa practically falls out of the car as she grabs her backpack and uniform. She sends Margaery a furious wave hoping it'll distract her from how red her face is and she doesn't look back as she walks to the door of the diner.

“ _Sansa_!” Margaery yells and Sansa turns to see the older girl hanging out the window. “Call me when you get home!” There’s a bright smile on her face as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Sansa blushes furiously before walking into the diner.

She doesn't even make it behind the counter before there is a chorus of “ _oooooh_ ” and Sansa looks up to see Ros and Gendry (head peaking from the kitchen window) with shit eating grins on their faces. 

“ _Hello_ Sansa,” Gendry greets with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Nice of you to join us from _making out with your girlfriend_ ,” Ros adds on top of it.

Sansa feels like she's stopped breathing as she flaps her mouth like a fish out of water. “We weren't making out!” she protests hotly before rushing to the back to change into her uniform.

Both of them break out into laughter before Sansa even shuts the door. 

“What do you know,” Gendry begins with a smile, “she didn't even deny they _weren't_ girlfriends.”

Ros shakes her head with a smile. “Oh my sweet winter wolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gay too jfc guys stop me


	27. I dreamt about you last night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am just going to...leave this...here...let me know what you think?

That strange sensation returns, this time louder than before. Sansa feels the way her stomach hollows out as she stands there underneath the gates to King's Landing Academy. She's been waiting for what feels like forever with nothing and no one left in sight.

As trepidation twists in her stomach, she stands there hopefully, looking out into the empty streets. Then it comes.

A soft gentle kiss melts on her nose and she looks up in wonder to see a flurry of white flecks falling from the sky. It brings warmth to her heart, finally seeing snow, a reminder of home.

But it's _wrong_. Winter is _coming_.

“Sorry you’ve been waiting so long.”

Sansa tears her confused state away from the snow and to the voice. Margaery is standing in front of her, looking completely unruffled as usual, but out of place in the wintry weather. There's a wave of relief upon seeing the older girl and Sansa rushes over to hug her, trying to fill the dread in her heart with Margaery's comforting presence.

“What're you doing here?” Sansa asks without letting her go, fearing the dread would return.

“Don't be silly,” Margaery responds pulling way from Sansa. “I'm here to pick you up for our date?”

“ _Our date_?” Sansa parrots, feeling her whole body warm. 

Margaery slips her cool hand into Sansa’s and turns to walk, but Sansa stills. The dread filling the pit of her stomach and she stops Margaery from going any further.

“What're you doing? We're going to be late,”  Margaery quizzically stares at the redhead. 

“We can't.” Sansa curses herself, knowing it could sound like rejection and she quickly stumbles over her words. “I _want_ to! But it's not safe.” She feels it, her gut telling her now wasn't the time.

“You’re not making any sense, Sans, it's fine.”

Margaery lets of Sansa's hand and before Sansa can reach for it, Margaery is out of the gates, standing in the street. Her arms raised without a care in the world. 

“See? Perfectly safe here Sansa!” 

The way Margaery says it with such certainty and fearlessness almost makes Sansa feel the same. If there’s one thing she’s learned since coming to King’s Landing though, is that things aren’t what they always seem to be. It’s evident from her Uncle Petyr, Miss Baratheon, Mayor Baratheon, and _gods_ , even when her _father_ comes to visit town, there is something **off**.

Nevertheless, Sansa takes her chances; she isn’t alone when she’s with Margaery. 

She steps out from underneath the gates.

A small layer of snow crunches beneath her feet and suddenly everything shakes. She looks up and Margaery stares at her with wide eyes. “Margaery?” she calls. She steps and hears the crackling like glass underneath her feet.  

Margaery stares in confusion, not moving an inch. She holds her hand out, not for Sansa to grab but to stop her from coming any closer. “Don’t. I’ve made a _mistake_ ,” Margaery says suddenly moving back.

Sansa’s face twists in confusion and hurt. _What does that mean?_

“Don’t come any closer,” Margaery warns, her eyes wide with fear. 

The words cut through Sansa despite their vague meaning. Sansa reaches her hand for Margaery. 

The ground shakes and opens up underneath Margaery, swallowing her whole, and Sansa screams as her heart dives into her stomach.

Sansa jerks up gasping for air. She sits up in her bed as she struggles to calm her heart ready to jump out of her chest.

She looks around her room and sees the mixes of soft oranges and purple spill into the room. It’s still early in the morning.  She looks over to her nightstand and sees the blinking blue light from her phone indicating notifications. 

It doesn’t hurt to check them now that she’s already awake. The nightmare still rattles her inside. It’s then that she realized that Margaery hadn’t called her and maybe Margaery hadn’t called her because she was drunk out of her mind. They stopped messaging regularly once it got busy and Sansa forgot to call the minute she fell into her bed with exhaustion. 

She doesn’t get to check her messages when a voicemail notification comes up first on the list. One from Margaery at 1:24am and another from Margaery almost two hours later. 

Sansa listens to it. 

“ _Hi, Sansaaaaa, how are you_?” Margaery drunken voice slurs in the message. “ _You’d’ve gotten off work by now and you hadn’t called me? That’s not nice---_ ” There’s indistinct yelling in the background from Loras. “ _Shhhhh!!! Loras she doesn’t need to know that! You’re embarrassing me stop it!_ ” There’s a playful whine. “ _I wanted to see you. I miss you so much. I wish you were here_.”

“Stop being gross!” Loras yells, this time closer to the phone that Sansa laughs in response. There’s a scuffle before Loras’s voice returns. “ _Listen, Sans, my sister is an idiot. She was mopey all evening, so I fed her **a lot** of drinks. I am truly sorry for her state tomorrow morning._ ” There’s a sound of a slap and Margaery yelling OW! “ _Oh, stop being a baby, you did that to yourself. Alright, Sansa, bye!_ ” Margaery still trying to talk in the background and the voicemail ends. 

Sansa waits to listen to the next voicemail, probably more of Margaery’s drunk ramblings.

The line picks up and there’s no sound. Not a peep. 

Until a breath. 

“ _Sansa_.” 

It’s Loras, his voice more sober than the previous message. 

It’s quiet all around him that Sansa feels her heart drop as she clenches the phone in her hand. She listens patiently. 

“ _Margaery’s been in an accident--_ ”

...

...

...

Sansa had barely listened to the rest of the voicemail before she was banging on her Uncle’s door, practically _demanding_ him to drive her to the Tyrell’s home at once. She doesn’t realize she’s crying and yelling until he hushes her, trying to placate her with a hug. A wave of terror fills her heart as she pushes him back and she begs him to bring her to Margaery.

It may be early, but when Sansa had called the number Loras had left in the last voicemail, she was surprised to hear his voice, almost expecting her parents to pick up. He tells her it’s okay to come over even though she’s already halfway there. 

Sansa keeps telling herself to stop crying, to hold it together, and to stay calm. Inside she trembles. She breathes raggedly in and out, unable to control worry that wrenches her insides. Margaery is _okay_. Loras said that Margaery is _fine_ , but Sansa can’t shake the feeling that it could’ve been worse. That she could’ve _lost_ Margaery. 

The tear well up in her eyes and Sansa coaches herself to hold them in. She’s cried enough already, she’s going to see Margaery and make sure that she’s okay. Face to face. She **has** to know, even if she’s still dressed in her PJs.

Sansa runs out of the car before Uncle Petyr even cuts the engine. Loras opens the door for her and with a polite nod to Mr. and Mrs. Tyrell, she runs past them up to Margaery’s room without even thinking.

She takes a breath before opening the door slowly to peak her head in. 

Margaery is asleep in her bed. Sansa feels her chest grow tight as she stares at the bandage wrapped around Margaery’s head and a bruise on her cheekbone and as she slowly approaches, she sees the cast around Margaery’s arm. All she can think is how it’s the same arm Sansa broke just last year and how Margaery held her good hand the whole ride to the hospital. She bites her lip as she approaches quietly. 

Then, Margaery shifts, exhaling quietly before her eyes blink open. She looks around the room before her eyes fall on Sansa. “Hey there,” she greets raspily as she sits up. 

Sansa doesn’t hold back her tears anymore. Her eyes have stung for far too long and she almost throws herself on top of Margaery, pulling her into a hug. She breathes in the older girl, revels in her warmth, and sighs with relief against her. 

And then she sobs.

She sobs right into Margaery’s shoulder. 

_Thank the gods. The old and the new. The seven. The light._ She doesn’t care as she clings onto Margaery. 

“I’m here, I’m okay,” Margaery soothes as her hand comes up to stroke Sansa’s hair. “I’m _okay_.”

Sansa bites her lip as she sobs harder. _No. You’re not. You’re hurt. It could’ve been worse._

It feels like forever before Sansa calms down. Her crying ebbing away as Margaery’s dulcet voice reminds her of her presence. She doesn’t let go of Margaery as they maneuver themselves to lie down, practically pulling Margaery on top of her chest. 

Margaery listens to Sansa’s fast heartbeat, the quivering in her breathes. Her head is tucked under the taller girl’s chin. She feels exhausted and her eyes slowly begin to close again. 

“You can rest,” Sansa says softly, her arm around Margaery still unrelenting. She doesn’t want to let go for fear that Margaery could disappear. “I’ll be here.”

Margaery nods before letting out a small yawn. “You know?” she begins sleepily. “I dreamt about you last night.”

Sansa doesn’t say anything and holds Margaery tightly until they both fall asleep. 


	28. Don't cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alright so this is the last one of the arc check out my tumblr actually because i have been reading comments and what not and i have some responses but just as an overall i have a video response to that

When they wake up from a couple more hours of sleep, Sansa finds their positions switched with her face tucked in Margaery’s neck. She’d be more embarrassed if Margaery was awake, considering her lips were pressed against the older girl’s neck. She can’t help it if that’s where Margaery’s scent is the strongest. The thought gets pushed to the back of her mind as Margaery wakes up. 

Sansa pulls back slowly and moves to sit up as Margaery shifts to stare up at her.

“Feeling better?” Margaery asks with a lazy smile on her face. 

Sansa bites the inside of her cheeks and clenches her hands. “You shouldn’t be asking me that when you’re the one that was just in an _accident_ ,” she answers with a bit of venom in her voice. 

“Sansa…”

Sansa shakes her head. She can’t help the stormy emotions raging inside of her. It’s been a whirlwind of worry, fear, agony, _you name it_. “What were you _thinking_? _How_ did this even happen?”

She almost regrets her words with the way Margaery looks past her. Margaery then lies fully on her back and stares at the canopy of her bed, leaving Sansa to await her response. Margaery visibly tightens her jaw, thinking deeply to herself for a moment before looking at Sansa and slipping her hand into Sansa’s. “Sansa, it was nothing, just some stupid mistake,” Margaery tries to comfort Sansa instead of answering. 

“But you’re hurt! It could’ve been worse than just a broken arm and concussion!” Sansa argues holding Margaery’s hand tightly. _I could’ve lost you!_ She wants to scream, but unable to do so. 

“I know, I _know_ ,” Margaery resigns, almost tiredly. She lets out a small sigh. “Sansa, look at me.” Sansa doesn’t want to but her eyes meet Margaery’s regardless. “It was an accident.”

“But--”

“I wasn’t driving,” Margaery admits, almost guiltily. “ _Loras_ was driving.” 

Sansa pauses for a moment, realizing that maybe Margaery wasn’t to blame for this. “ _What_?” Margaery doesn’t make mistakes often and wouldn’t do anything so stupid or brazen like drive drunkenly. “Why was he driving? _What was he thinking_?” Sansa feels her heart rate spike again. 

“Sansa, please, it was a stupid decision,” Margaery repeats herself again. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “Towards the end of the night, when we were sobering up, he got into a fight with Renly and wanted to get away. So I tried to make sure he was okay, so I went with him. I know I should’ve stopped him from driving but he wouldn’t listen to me.” 

The older girl stops explaining herself and stares up at the ceiling. She inhales deeply before exhaling slowly, trying to find the right words and organize her thoughts. Sansa’s seen her do this multiple times, weighing her thoughts and emotions carefully. Loras was her favorite brother, it was evident how much they cared for one another. 

As terrified as Sansa feels inside, she can’t help but feel for Margaery because the look on her face says it all. And when she thinks back to seeing Loras in the Tyrell doorway, his face mirrored his sister’s with guilt. She understands. It’s all understandable. 

_It’s just not right. It’s not fair._ Because Sansa feels so frustrated inside that this happened in the first place. She wants _someone_ to yell at and blame for hurting Margaery. How could she do that to not just one but two people who are already blaming themselves? She _can’t_ do this.

It’s not until she feels Margaery’s hand cup her cheek, thumb pushing aside the tears, that she realizes she’s crying once more. 

“Sweetling, don’t cry,” Margaery says, sitting up until her face is close to Sansa’s once more. She kisses Sansa’s forehead gently, trying to bring comfort to the younger girl. 

“How can I not?” Sansa rasps through her quiet sobs. She sniffles with her tears pouring. She can’t even hold it in anymore. She needs to say it, to let Margaery know. “I was-I _am_ so **scared** , Margaery. You have no idea what it was like for me to get that phone call. To hear Loras tell me that you were in an accident. How am I supposed to picture you perfectly fine one moment and expect you to not--” she chokes on her sob. 

“I’m right here,” Margaery insists as she thumbs away more of Sansa’s tears. It’s frustrating with one arm broken and too tired to move. 

“I know,” Sansa cries, “I know. I _know_. And I keep trying to remind myself, but you’re here and you’re _hurt_ and I just don’t know _why_ I am so scared. Margaery, I can’t imagine you being gone.”

“ _Oh gods_. Sansa, as long as I can breathe, you will never be without me,” Margaery declares, so surely, so promisingly. She stares deep into Sansa’s eyes, trying to reassure her. And Sansa stares in return, trying to believe her.

“Promise me,” Sansa whispers softly. It may sounds foolish and stupid, but she just wants to hear it. “ _Promise me_ you’ll always be here.” _With me_ is left unsaid and Sansa only hopes Margaery understands. 

“I promise. I will always be here as long as you are.”  

Sansa nods in agreement. For a brief moment, Sansa feels like there should be more, something that they can do to promise that they’d never be apart. Margaery stares at her intently, but Sansa finds her eyes flitting down to Margaery’s lips briefly. 

Sansa feels her whole face warm before she shuts her eyes. Then she opens them, holding her pinky up. Margaery smiles with a roll of her eyes before linking their pinkies.

Then, she kisses her hand, “For good measure,” her eyes staring at Sansa to do the same. 

Sansa blushes, suddenly feeling strange with Margaery’s pinky laced with hers as she kisses her hand. “You’re such a nerd,” she finally says through her ebbing tears. When Margaery smiles proudly in return, Sansa feels her heart swell inside of her chest. And she doesn’t let go of Margaery’s pinky as Margaery regals the better half of the night to cheer them up. 


	29. It's two sugars, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to the fluffy cuteness yall been dying for

Sansa is bone tired as she stands back stage waiting for the scene to end. There are approximately two more scenes before intermission is scheduled but this upcoming change is quick. Maybe _too_ quick.

She usually has the help of Mordane or Shireen during quick changes, but Shireen is currently in a scene and Mordane’s gone home sick for the this rehearsal. She practically bites her nails down to the skin as the scene comes. Luckily for her, the minor characters don’t need to change but three of the major characters do. While they should know how to put on trousers and blouses, the female lead requires a bit more attention that has Sansa pricking her finger to make sure that her dress stays on because no one wants a wardrobe malfunction even if it is just a dress rehearsal. 

There’s a small relieved sigh that escapes her lips as Shae gives her a thumbs up from the crowd when she sticks her head out briefly to make sure everything was in order. 

While the scene goes on, Sansa takes this lull to clean up the tornado that’s struck backstage so that she can enjoy the intermission. 

As she clears the changed out trousers and shirts, she hears soft footsteps fall. 

Margaery is cautiously walking towards her in an effort to remain as quiet as possible. The last time Margaery visited backstage, even when it wasn’t a serious rehearsal, Shae almost threw a water bottle at Margaery for being too loud.

Sansa just sags a little bit in her presence, letting herself be a little more tired than she lets anyone else see. 

“I’ve got coffee,” Margaery whispers as she lifts a little carry box with two coffees in them. 

Sansa smiles gratefully before clearing a bench for them to sit on. “I thought you had practice today,” she whispers in return as Margaery sets the box down between them. 

“Our practices don’t take nearly as long as your rehearsal do,” Margaery playfully says as she tries to open the box. It’s much harder with one hand, with the other one still in a cast. 

Sansa hides her frown as she grasps Margaery’s hand. “I’ve got it,” she says and Margaery lets her with a huff. She pops open the box with ease and smells the rich blend. “Mmm, which one is mine?” 

Margaery points to Sansa’s before grabbing her own. 

Sansa takes it to open the cap, inhaling the rich smell. She doesn’t even look as she asks, “From Essos?”

“Mm hmm,” Margaery hums before using her cast to push the box on the floor with her broken arm. There’s another sound of triumph as she scoots next to Sansa. “It’s two sugars, right?” She asks with an earnest smile on her face. 

Sansa pauses midsip. While she does enjoy the beautiful taste of coffee, nothing makes it taste better like sugar and cream. She enjoys her sweets far too much and Margaery should know that by the way she stashes chocolates and ribbons in her room just for Sansa when she comes over. The bitterness of pure coffee is something to contend with. She stares at Margaery, unsure of how to respond. It’s not like she can be a brat about it. 

Margaery lets out a little giggle. 

“Margaery!” Sansa hisses with a gentle shove. “You _liar_.” She says before taking a glance at her coffee. Somehow the scent of coffee still overpowers the fact that her coffee is a nice light creamy blend. 

“You should’ve seen the look on your face,” Margaery sips her coffee. “You thought I’d really forget your coffee order?”  

Sansa narrows her eyes before shaking her head with a smile. Of course, Margaery would never forget, she even remembers how Sansa likes her milkshakes done. 

“How was practice today?” Sansa asks the older girl idly. Having waited behind the curtain on her own for the most part of the play, it’s nice to have someone to talk to finally. Aside from the fact she’s felt like she hasn’t seen Margaery all day. 

“It was fine,” Margaery answers. “They’re getting on really well, luckily, Myrcella for the most part knows what she’s doing so I don’t have to demonstrate.”

“It would be quite difficult to do that,” Sansa refers to the casted arm. “But it’s lucky that the other girls aren’t too bothered by it to let you stay on.” 

Margaery shrugs as if she doesn’t care. Sansa’s seen her done that one too many times around Loras in the last week, ever since the accident. Margaery says it’s fine, it’s not a big deal, as if the accident didn’t derail some of her plans for the near future, what with nationals just around the corner (they had to take her out of the line up). Sansa can see it though, Margaery is steadfast in her interests, when something has her attention, she is dedicated and unwavering. As much as she adores Loras, there’s still an undertone of bitterness that Margaery tries too hard to hide. 

Sansa can only imagine what Margaery would do if she’d ever wrong Margaery.

“They, as in the Sand duo, have only kept me on just to coach the JV squad,” Margaery reveals before muttering, “which in my opinion are doing far better than the hot mess of a team they’ve made themselves to be. Luckily, Nymeria and Tyene are going to graduate this year so the world shall be in order again.”

“Mmm, when they graduate, you’ll get to be _captain_ ,” Sansa smoothes over, bumping Margaery’s shoulder. 

There’s a brief pause after Sansa’s comment that has her worried that she might’ve said something wrong. She peers at Margaery, but the older girl’s face doesn’t reveal anything. 

Margaery smirks at Sansa before dropping her head on her shoulder. She sinks just enough for Sansa to feel Margaery’s weight and readjusts as Sansa sits properly so that Margaery can be comfortable. “I’m actually _not_ going back,” she whispers softly, but she doesn’t sound sad about it. 

Sansa’s eyes widen but she doesn’t try to rouse the girl on her shoulder. “Really?”

“Mm,” Margaery nods, almost nuzzling Sansa (she gets warm at the comfort). “As much as I’d like to finish with another gold statue from Nationals, I suppose it’s time to move on. I was planning to run for student council actually. I’ve already got some pull in the honor society, so I thought _why not_.”

Then it occurs to Sansa, “You were talking to Tristan earlier this year, he’s on student council.” 

Margaery looks up to smile at Sansa. “You remember,” she sounds surprised, but she nods in agreement. There’s a little glint in her eyes as she speaks. “I was getting curious about the inner workings of our school and what role we can play as students. While the complete clown right now is pretty much a figurehead for the organization, I think we have a chance to do some real good. Bring out more voices. Open up some dialogue. Add diversity to the school. Create a space for us to really make ourselves something instead of being that snotty private school in the Northern half of the city.”

Sansa stares in awe at the brown haired girl, looking more fiery than she’s ever been. Usually, Margaery is the picture of composure, calm, quiet, constantly thinking. Sansa can’t help but wonder if this is what Margaery thinks of regularly. 

She reaches down to squeeze Margaery’s knee. 

“Sorry,” Margaery immediately apologizes, almost laughing at herself. “It must sound ridiculous to you.” 

“No, not at all,” Sansa earnestly says. “It’s nice to hear you so passionate about something. I was beginning to think you were too cool to care...” They giggle at that. Sansa doesn’t let go of Margaery’s knee, enjoying the warmth under her hand. “You know what it makes you sound like though?”

Margaery raises an eyebrow at Sansa. “And what is that?”

“ _A nerd_.”

“Oh really?” Margaery sits up straighter meeting Sansa’s eyes. Acting with bravado, even as she smiles almost flirtatiously at Sansa. “What’s wrong with that? Scared of being _out nerded_ , Stark?” 

Sansa doesn’t even think twice as the distance between their faces close. Or the way Margaery stares at her to stop the breath in the back of her throat. Or the way their sides are starting to flush against one another. 

There’s a rumbling of feet barreling their way. A hoot and holler following. 

Whatever spell that occurred, breaks between them and Sansa moves away from Margaery, exhaling a breath she didn’t know she was holding onto. Margaery doesn’t seem to bothered as she puts on a smile for the oncoming crowd of actors. 

Shireen stumbles into the back first, only pausing to stare at the two of them awkwardly. Shae on her heels, bumping into the younger girl. Shireen doesn’t say anything but looks up at Shae, who is ready to pounce. 

“Nice to see you, Margaery,” Shae greets with a cheshire like smile on her face. She stares at Sansa. “As much as I appreciate you keeping our costume manager company, please refrain from being utterly revolting.”

Sansa snorts at how absurd Shae sounds.

Margaery, on the other hand, shoots a smile at Shae, “I’m sure that you’ve _enjoyed_ a fair share of _revolting_ things.”

Shae glowers as Margaery shoots her a wink. Sansa stares in disbelief between the two girls, feeling something twist in her stomach. Margaery can be playful, but this was something different, almost as if she’d been _flirting_ with Shae. But Margaery wouldn’t do that. _With a girl? With Shae?_

“We’re taking a break now, Sansa, we start up in 15 minutes,” Shae says instead, disregarding Margaery completely. 

Sansa nods as everyone seems to go their own direction. 

Margaery suddenly stands and turns to offer her broken arm to Sansa, holding her coffee in her other hand. “Care to go for a walk?” 

Sansa nods, feeling like the room had suddenly become too small for all of them. She forgets the twisting sensation in her stomach as she walks with Margaery down the hall as they catch up on their day.


	30. I brought you an umbrella

It’s strange being part of a friend circle that doesn’t include Margaery. Not that it’s not nice, but it feels like something is _missing_. Maybe she’s been spoiled by how much time she and Margaery spend together that she forgets that when they aren’t together, they have two different groups of friends. Margaery is, of course, still friends with what KLA considers _social royalty_ (Sansa isn’t even surprised that Margaery is considered the social royalty to _her_ circle of friends). Sansa gets on with the drama club and they’re nice, albeit dramatic but that’s a given and she has to admit, they’re more real than the time she’s been on the cheerleading squad. 

Sansa finds them all quirky in their own way. Gilly and her funny little accent and eccentric hair. Sam and his bumbling endless knowledge. Tommen and his cute stutter when practically any girl talks to him. Shireen, despite the marred skin from her childhood, still being exceptionally kind and gracious to anyone even if they’re downright nasty. 

Sansa wonders what they think her quirk is. 

“Sansa, are you coming over tonight?” Mordane asks as she helps Sansa backstage. 

The final scene is wrapping up and she can feel the whole cast vibrating with excitement. Sansa feels it too. All of her hard work, with Mordane mentoring, will finally pay off. Hours of drawing, sizing, sewing, stitching. 

“Uhm, sure,” Sansa answers dumbly. She shakes her head at herself for being distracted with organizing the closet. “Yes, of course I’ll be there.” 

“You didn’t sound so sure,” Mordane pokes gently. 

In the last couple of weeks with how busy work has been and the play, Sansa hasn’t really had time for herself. The weekend she was supposed to have off was instead a terribly stressful weekend what with Margaery’s accident. Since then, it’s been nonstop. 

She feels bad that she hasn’t even gone over to Margaery’s at all in the last week. Only leaving Margaery to stop by briefly after practice to have coffee before heading home while Sansa stayed late for rehearsal. 

“I’m just tired,” Sansa admits. “But I am definitely going to be there.” She puts on a smile and hopes that it’ll reach her heart. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” the older girl insists. “Last year you missed the cast party, but this year you absolutely cannot, there are so many of us graduating.”

“I didn’t miss the other parties though,” Sansa has to remind. 

Mordane gives her a look. “This is the biggest party of the year for us. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it _again_.” Then she pauses for a moment thoughtfully before saying, “If you want...you can invite Margaery, you _do_ know that right?” 

Sansa stops what she’s doing for a moment, but quickly recovers. “I mean I _know_. Shae has made it abundantly clear how much she’d _love_ to have Margaery there,” she sarcastically says with a little laugh to herself. Margaery says they’ve got “history”-- _whatever_ that means. 

Mordane hums. 

It catches Sansa’s attention because she can tell that means Mordane knows something. The older girl is much more composed than she is, a bit like a mother hen, but there are moments like these that Sansa picks up on. 

“What?” Sansa asks sharper than she expects to. 

Mordane just shrugs. 

“You know something,” the redhead continues on suspiciously. Mordane fails to respond, more like she actively avoids responding. “You know why Shae doesn’t like Margaery, don’t you?” 

Mordane shrugs it off as if she didn’t care. The look on her face says it all as she looks up at Sansa. “They’ve got history.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “I know _that_.” The curiosity grows. Because for the time that she’s known Margaery, the older girl hasn’t been forthcoming with certain topics. Shae being one of them. “I just don’t know what it is. Margaery barely dislikes anyone; honestly, she doesn’t even look like she dislikes Shae. Why can’t they get along?”

Mordane looks like she’s about to answer when she looks past Sansa. “Speak of the devil,” she says with a smirk on her face. 

Sansa whips around to see Margaery standing there looking unbothered by the fact that Mordane admits they were talking about her. The question was how long Margaery’s been there. 

“Margaery!” Sansa greets, unable to contain a small smile, both from embarrassment and a sudden shyness. She finishes hanging some shirts before walking toward Margaery. “The show isn’t over yet, what’re you doing back here?” 

Margaery returns the greeting with a hug that Sansa welcomes. “I just wanted to say hello and give you this.” When she pulls back, she reaches into her bag and pulls out an umbrella. “I brought you an umbrella. It’s raining out and I know you didn’t bring a jacket.” She narrows her eyes playfully at Sansa. 

Sansa thinks if she packed one before realizing that she hadn’t. “I didn’t think it was going to rain,” she grumbles. “Wait, are you not driving me home anymore?” 

Margaery tilts her head. “Sansa, it’s the spring production, even _I_ know that the drama club throws a huge party afterwards.” 

Sansa blushes. _Right, of course Margaery would know_. It’s not like she was _actively_ avoiding mentioning it to Margaery--it’s just---

“I figured you’d want to go with the crew,” Margaery goes on. “It’ll be a good party.” Mordane coughs. “So I’ve heard.”

Sansa looks back and sees Mordane raise her eyebrows suggestively at her. _Whatever that means._ She feels her back warm, knowing that Mordane is within earshot of them. 

“Hey,” Margaery tucks a stray hair behind Sansa’s ear to catch her attention. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to? I just thought you’d want to hang out with your friends.”

_Your friends._ Sansa remembers that they are autonomous from one another. She bites her lip briefly before saying, “I just assumed that you’d want to come with me.” 

Margaery gives her a funny look. 

“I mean if you wanted to of course!” Sansa adds on quickly. “You still bring me to your parties...I thought you’d come to mine you know?”

Margaery doesn’t respond right away and Sansa feels like a fool for even trying. Margaery is social royalty. She wouldn’t want to come. 

Then there’s a small smile on Margaery’s face. “Are you asking me to go?” 

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Of course, I am. Have you not been listening to me?”

“Well, it sounded like you _assumed_ I was just going to go with you. There hasn’t been a _question_ at all.” 

Sansa pouts at Margaery being difficult. “Well, _excuse me_ , I’m sorry for _assuming_ that you were my best friend and _of course,_ would go to a party I’ve been invited to. And you’re social royalty in almost all circles here, so of course you’re invited.” 

“I’m not _that_ popular,” Margaery gently remind. 

Sansa thinks she’s just being too humble as she reaches for Margaery’s hand. “You definitely are, I’m pretty sure everyone I’ve met has asked me how you’re my best friend,” Sansa argues. 

“Why wouldn’t I be your best friend?” 

Mordane gags and both of them turn to look at her. 

When their attention is on her, she simply says, “You two are being cheesy again. We get it, you like each other.” 

Sansa blushes. “We’re--I was--just---” she doesn’t know why she’s stuttering. The smirk on Mordane gets to her as if liking Margaery meant something else. Of course, they like each other. _They’re best friends._

“Don’t play jealous, Mordane,” Margaery shoots playfully at the senior. “If we didn’t like each other, how else would we be friends?” 

Thank god for Margaery clearing that up. Mordane stares at Margaery with her eyebrows raised as if to say, _really?_ It makes Sansa blush even harder.

“Mm,” Mordane hums thoughtfully without another word. She shoots Margaery a look before going back to grabbing costumes. 

“Anyway,” Margaery says looking at Sansa, squeezing her hand. “Did you want to go to the party?” 

Sansa snaps out of her blushing spell before nodding furiously. “Yes, of course. And you’re coming right?”

“Do you want me to?” 

“Yes,” Sansa says definitively. “I want you to come with me. We’re going together.” 

“Okay,” Margaery says with a smile on her face. “It’s a date.” 

Sansa pauses. Her brain short circuiting as Margaery lets go of her hand. A date. Her heart beats quickly in her chest and she doesn’t know why. There’s a giddiness from butterflies flourishing in her stomach suddenly. She smiles and nods furiously. 

“I’ll see you after the show,” Sansa blurts out with a giggle. She doesn’t realize she’s been holding onto the umbrella until she squeezes it between her two hands to avoid holding her heart to stop it from fluttering. 

Margaery nods in agreement. “See you later,” she waves before leaving the room. 

“A date huh?” Mordane asks with mirth.

Sansa holds her breath, forgetting the older girl was still there. And of course she heard. “She’s just saying that,” Sansa reasons. “It’s probably just a thing. Not like a date date, whatever that is. We’re friends and we’re going together. That’s all.” 

Mordane sighs at her before going back to cleaning up. 

Sansa does the same. All the while, desperately stopping her heart from beating out of her chest. She’s just really happy that Margaery is going with her to the party. _That’s all._


	31. I'll do it for you

Margaery is working on her literature homework as usual, deeply focused with the comfort of Sansa’s presence. While she generally enjoys the quiet as she works, she’s adapted recently to not only Sansa’s presence but the younger girl’s quirkiness. 

“Damnit, _damnit_ , go _go go_!” Sansa cheers quietly to herself as she presses down on the buttons.

Margaery continues to work diligently, only smiling to herself as she listens to Sansa’s attempts at trying to remain a quiet game player. Her attempt was clearly failing. Margaery can tell by the exasperated sighs and the furious tapping of the buttons. 

“Noooo,” Sansa practically cries after a moment, catching Margaery’s full attention. 

The older girl turns in her seat to see the redhead lying on the ground face down in front of the SNES with the little Mario avatar cheerfully awaiting her instruction on the screen. Margaery gets up from her seat and makes her way over. 

She doesn’t think twice about lying down on her stomach right next to Sansa, head propped up by her fist. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

Sansa picks up her head in a huff, batting away her long luscious hair. She blows a few strands out of her face as she sits up quickly. Margaery turns to lie on her side, staring up at the girl kneeling. 

“It’s this stupid level! I can’t seem to get it and I keep getting so close!” Sansa motions to the screen with the controller. She clicks it quickly. “I swear this is rigged, Margaery. Tell your brothers they’ve given you a rigged game or _system_.” 

Margaery laughs. “It’s old Sansa, but don’t insult it for being rigged.”

“No, watch!” Sansa insists as the level starts again and Margaery sits up crossed legged with her to watch. 

Margaery fails to watch the game as intently as Sansa’s playing it. It’s hard to when Sansa is far more interesting to stare at. The way she furrows her brow in concentration, or the way she clenches her jaw, or the way she subsequently lets out a relieved sigh, or the way she bites her lip as she advances with ease. Margaery’s eyes linger on Sansa’s lips, realizing then that’s when Sansa is talking to her. 

When she doesn’t respond, Sansa look at Margaery, and Margaery shoots her attention to the screen. Mario is currently underwater and there are some options for pipes. Instead of going through them, Sansa makes her way straight ahead and a piranha plant is there waiting for her. Just as she’s about to make her way around a fish comes and the little Mario yelps before meeting his demise. 

Not too complex, Margaery thinks to herself, but it is tricky.

“Come on, give it here,” Margaery reaches for the controller

Sansa backs up, appalled by Margaery’s offer. “No! I can do this!” she says with sheer determination. 

Margaery nods in agreement, staring into her blue eyes that’ve turned electric. “I know that you can, but you’re struggling. So how about I do it and you watch _how_ I do it?” She reaches for the controller again.

Sansa pulls the controller back and pouts. “I can do it. I’ll figure it out. I’m just frustrated.”

“You’ve been stuck on this for a _half_ hour,” Margaery notes. 

“Nah uh! I haven’t been stuck on this round for that long. 

“Sans...I’ve been listening to the same sounds for the past half hour, yes, you have. Give it. I’ll do it for you.” Margaery doesn’t play nice. She darts for the controller and Sansa yelps at the sudden movement before throwing her arm back to get the controller out of reach. 

If they were standing, Sansa would be at an advantage but Margaery uses the fact that they’re sitting on the floor to her advantage. She grabs at Sansa’s wrist, ignoring the low clattering of the games on console moving with the wired controller. 

“Marg!” Sansa yells in protest before Margaery presses at a sensitive part of her stomach causing her to laugh. “I don’t need your help. I can do it!” 

“I want to help because you’ve got homework to do!” Margaery says as she practically climbs Sansa. 

Sansa moves back further, unable to balance herself as Margaery reaches up once more. With a low thud, Sansa’s on her back and Margaery is on top of her. The controller falls to the plush rug beside them, suddenly forgotten. 

Margaery’s eyes widen, staring into Sansa’s shockingly blue eyes. They’ve turn a deep blue like the ocean, the color of the headband Sansa still wears on occasion. Her breath catches as she feels Sansa’s chest rise and fall against hers. 

Sansa may not remember but Margaery remembers distinctly. The after spring production party, both of them showing up together, everyone pouring shots and drinking cheap beer. They made great pong partners, taking down the seniors of the group. Margaery surprising Sansa with her endless knowledge of characters and playwrights. 

It was all fun. So much fun, drinking and laughing. Until Margaery gets sober at the feeling of Sansa staring at her in the bathroom as she waits to use the toilet. The two of them talking and laughing, ignoring the fact that Sansa was briefly pantless to relieve herself. 

Sansa doesn’t remember stumbling forward from tugging her pants up and pressing Margaery against the sink. She doesn’t remember staring directly into Margaery’s eyes before trailing to her lips. She doesn’t remember clutching Margaery’s side tentatively. 

Margaery remembers it because she tilts her head just a bit, trying to meet Sansa. When she expects to finally feel Sansa’s soft lips against hers, she’s suddenly wrapped in a tight hug. She gasps as Sansa buries her face into her neck, deeply inhaling before placing a gentle kiss. 

_“Did I ever mention you smell nice?”_ Sansa slurs, lips smiling against her neck. 

Margaery sobered up so quickly in that moment, trying maintain every ounce of self control.

Just like how she’s trying to right now. But the way Sansa is looking at her stops her in her tracks. 

“Are you alright?” Sansa asks, making no motion to move. 

Margaery blinks. “Oh, right, yes. I’m fine.”

Sansa lets out a breath and Margaery feels herself shift on top of the redhead. “For someone small, you’re pretty heavy.” 

Margaery rolls her eyes as she moves to get off Sansa. “Shut up, I’m not _that_ heavy,” she turns away from Sansa, trying to calm down so her face doesn’t turn red. 

“Aww come on, don’t be like that,” Sansa sighs out. She reaches for the controller once more before reaching for Margaery’s shoulder. 

Margaery tries to calm her racing heart down. Hoping that her cheeks don't turn noticeably red. She feels a tap on her shoulder and looks over in confusion to see Sansa carefully hold out the controller. She isn’t mad but Sansa looks at her carefully with her puppy pout that makes her heart melt. 

“Come on, I guess I could let you show me how to beat this,” Sansa rolls her eyes as she shakes the controller for Margaery to take. “You know for the sake of getting work done.” 

Margaery shakes her head with a laugh. She takes the controller and sidles up next to Sansa as she starts the level over. 


	32. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who is ready for EMOTIONS

Sansa has prided herself on not being nosy. She doesn’t like to pry in other people’s business because she wouldn’t like it if someone was prying in hers. No matter how curious she was, she had an inkling that if she got too deep into someone else’s business she would pay some adverse effect. 

Luckily, she’s learned that being a wallflower isn’t too bad. She can be a bit mousy, but at least she is kind and polite. And most definitely, **not** causing _trouble_ for herself or anyone around her. 

As for Margaery, she knows that Margaery is a bit of a busy body. Margaery is liked by everyone because she gets to know everyone around her. Sansa has seen the older girl take interest in people. While some girls call Margaery fake, Sansa doesn’t see it that way. It literally doesn’t cost Margaery a dime to be kind to someone. 

Yet, Margaery isn’t some sort of angel. She has her own intentions, vested interests. It’s only fair considering everyone in high school just wants to make a name for themselves. Margaery just does it _better_ than everyone else. 

This time, Margaery’s gone _too far._

It’s the reason why Sansa has always been weary around Margaery. Weary to let her guard down around the older girl. Weary to let her know who she is. 

Sansa is a Stark. Her family has been Warden of the North for centuries in Westeros. The pack that not only will protect the North, but each other. Their family was deeply rooted in history and they are all cut from the same cloth. 

If there’s anything Sansa’s learned growing up is that a Stark can learn to take care of themselves because a pack might not always travel as a pack. It’s the reason why Sansa learned how to navigate KLA so quickly. It’s the reason why Sansa works so hard at KLA. It’s the reason why Sansa picked up a job. 

She is furious. Beyond it, actually. She could actually throw something. 

Instead she clutches the letter she’s gotten. Who knows if anyone else had heard about it? It’s not something that can be kept under the wraps.

_ Congratulations.  _

_ Scholarship recipient. _

_ Full scholarship dependent upon grade requirements and extracurricular activities. _

To top it all off.

_ Sponsored by Tyrell Consolidates.  _

Sansa looks down the hall and sees Margaery walking around with her posse. Girls her year that Sansa doesn’t interact with much, but adore Margaery. They’re in the same league as Margaery, the glamorous rich girls that live in mansions from their parents’ businesses or political influence.

Maybe this is why Margaery is even friends with Sansa. Keeping her around as some sort of charity case. A small pup that can’t take care of herself. So that she can be elevated.

Sansa can very well take care of herself. Her family can manage fine on their own. 

Margaery smiles at her and it feels like a slap to her face. Because it just looks so fucking fake. She says she’ll catch up with her friends and approaches Sansa.

Usually, Sansa feels bad about Margaery leaving her friends to have lunch with her, but today, Sansa wishes they were there to see Margaery the way she does. 

Margaery opens her arms up to hug Sansa, but Sansa steps back. Margaery does as well. “Is everything alright?” she asks with concern. 

Sansa holds the letter up to Margaery’s face. “What the _hell_ is this?” she snaps angrily, unable to control herself. 

Margaery takes the letter in confusion before reading it. After a moment, there’s still a smile on her face like it’s not a big deal. “It’s a scholarship, Sansa,” she answers handing it back.

“Why was it sent to me?” Sansa asks sharply. 

Margaery seems to catch onto the fact that Sansa is furious or maybe it’s the way everyone around them is starting to stare. “Sansa, we should go somewhere and talk about this--” Margaery says carefully, trying to guide Sansa. 

Sansa pulls her arms back away from Margaery like she’s scorching. “All of this time, I thought that you were this amazing, kind, beautiful girl. But you’re a _liar_.”

“ _Hey_ …,” Margaery tries. 

“Don’t--” Sansa growls. “Everything I’ve ever told you was because I thought you were my _friend_. That you cared about me and supported me.” She shakes her head.

“What’re you talking about?” Margaery quickly asks. She sounds so dumbfounded that Sansa wants to still believe in the best of her. 

Sansa scoffs and starts to walk away. 

Margaery chases after her, reaching for her arm to turn her around. “Sansa, you need to listen to me, it’s not like it seems,” she argues.

“How do you explain this then?” Sansa waves the letter angrily. “I told you my situation and told you that I was fine. So why am I getting a letter from your family giving me _money_?” She throws the letter at Margaery. “Take it. I don’t need your stupid money or your stupid pity. I’m **not** your _charity case_ , Margaery.”  

Sansa doesn’t wait for Margaery and quickly walks away from her. She ignores her for the rest of the day in a foul mood that everyone knows they should just stay away.

The worst part is that Sansa isn’t mad by the time she gets home. She just feels so hurt and betrayed by it all. It took a lot for her to open up to Margaery, to want to be her friend, to feel comfortable around her. She thought the older girl was different. 

“Okay, don’t be mad at me, but don’t you think you’re overreacting?” 

Her best friend, from Winterfell, forget Margaery right now--Sansa doesn’t even know where they stand--in the whole world, since they were children, Jeyne Poole, _said what?_

“Jeyne! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Sansa pleads at the computer screen. 

Coming straight home after school, Sansa tried to get some work done but had apparent issues due to the emotions bursting at the seams. After about a half hour of trying to focus, she broke. She bawled her eyes out over the scholarship, yelling at Margaery, and just feeling useless. 

She resolved to call home, but she didn’t want to explain to her parents why she was crying. She needed a friend.

So of course, she called Jeyne. And it is such a relief to see her best friend on her laptop screen. 

“Sansa, you know that I am on your side, always,” Jeyne starts but Sansa knows there’s more, “but what if that _wasn’t_ Margaery’s intention?” 

“Didn’t you hear what I told you?” Sansa throws back. “All of this stuff, I told her in confidence because I didn’t want her to do anything about it.” 

“You said it yourself when you decided to go there, KLA isn’t cheap,” the dark haired girl reasons. “Maybe she just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“ _Something nice_ ,” Sansa bitterly repeats. “No one is _really_ nice at KLA. I’ve always felt like Margaery was too good to be true. Just so nice and charming to me for no reason. I knew it. This doesn’t come without strings attached, Jeyne.”

“You’re doing that _thing_ again,” Jeyne hums playfully. 

Sansa pouts and crosses her arms. “I have a right to be,” she mutters, “---you know that. I just don’t like…”

“Being used?” Jeyne finishes sympathetically. “It’s alright, Sans. I understand, but do you really think Margaery would do that to you? What could she possibly get out of this?” 

Sansa bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She didn’t ask for this scholarship nor has she ever made any inclination that she’d ever want anything from Margaery besides the promise and hope of friendship. Margaery has been unyielding and unwavering in her kindness towards Sansa. She feels her phone vibrate beside her before swiping to ignore the call again. 

“She’s also been calling you for the past hour we’ve been on,” Jeyne reminds coyly. “You haven’t even given her a chance to explain herself.”

“She doesn’t need to explain herself, I know,” Sansa remains staunch. “All she’s going to do is apologize and say something smug about how I needed help anyway.” 

“You’re being irrational,” Jeyne points out. At this point, Sansa huffs and crosses her arms. 

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“I oughta slap you,” Jeyne threatens with a smile on her face.

“I’d like to see you try,” Sansa quips in return. 

Jeyne laughs. “You’re seriously being irrational. You’ve known Margaery for almost two years now, don’t you think if she was keeping you around like some pet to kick around, I don’t know...you’d be _kicked_ around? Every time you call, it sounds like you really like her. If I wasn’t secure in our friendship, I’d think you’re replacing me.”

Sansa narrows her eyes. “Maybe I _should_ ,” she frowns.

“Don’t be like that, you prick,” Jeyne glares threateningly. “Come off it though, Margaery sounds like a really great girl. You’ve been raving about her since you started school there. From one best friend to another, you’ve gotta talk to her. Hear what she has to say. Maybe she didn’t even know that letter was coming.” 

“But she had this smug look on her face, she knew exactly what it was,” Sansa frowns, picking at the fringes of the pillow in her arms. 

“That doesn’t mean--”

**Knock, knock.**

Sansa turns her attention to her door. 

“Sansa?” Margaery’s voice is muffled. “Can we talk?” 

Sansa looks at Jeyne in alarm. 

“I can’t do anything from here,” Jeyne brings her hand up in surrender. “Go on, open the door. Don’t be rude.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Sansa grumbles as she gets up from her seat. 

“I am!” 

Sansa opens the door in a huff and Margaery is standing there with a single daisy. It looks dainty and limp in her hand and Margaery isn’t sure what to do about it. 

“What’re you doing here?” Sansa sighs.  

“Can I come in?” Margaery asks, instead of coming in like she usually does. Sansa nods and steps back. “This is for you by the way. You know my habit of picking things.” The older girl says as a weak joke, handing Sansa the flower. 

Sansa takes it without a word and places it on her dresser by the door. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Margaery scratches the back of her neck. “I’m here to talk, obviously,” she answers. “You didn’t really give me a chance to explain earlier.” 

“Well go on,” Sansa says feeling very impatient. She doesn’t know if she’s still angry or elated to see Margaery. 

Margaery reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The letter and hands it to Sansa. Sansa doesn’t move to take it. “Earlier you said that you were a charity case and that you didn’t want my money nor my pity.”

Sansa squares herself. She told Jeyne. _She knew it._  She _knew_ Margaery was just keeping her around like a pet. 

“I know it may seem like that’s the case, but you are _none_ of those things,” Margaery goes on, surprising Sansa. She reaches for Sansa’s hand and places the scholarship letter in her hand. “When I first met you, yeah, I noticed that you were a bit quiet and awkward, unsure of how to fit in. But I thought you were beautiful, outwardly _and_ inside. I was thinking to myself that maybe I could be your friend, so people could see what I see. That you’d grow and blossom into something of your own. And you _have_. 

Nothing makes me happier than being your friend, since I’ve met you. I may know a lot of people but _no one_ I’ve ever met is quite like you. I think you’re kind, intelligent, and so very clever and I believe that you _deserve_ good things, Sansa.”

Sansa isn’t sure what to say. She focuses on Margaery’s hand holding onto hers, closing around the letter. Her eyes start to sting at the welling tears. Part of her wants to say it’s just a ruse, just Margaery being good with her words and pulling Sansa into some deep prank. But part of her desperately yearns to believe Margaery and wants to just pull her close. 

“What I told you,” she chokes up a bit, overwhelmed by her warring emotions, “about my family and my sister, wasn’t so that I could get something out of you. I can take care of myself and my family.”

“I know,” Margaery says softly and earnestly. “I understand and it was wrong of me to just assume that I could help you. I’m _sorry_. I didn’t mean to. To insult you or condescend you. But I wanted to help, I still want to in any way you need me to.”

Sansa pulls her hand away from Margaery to wipe her falling tears. “Gods, why the hell are you being so nice to me?” she asks in frustration as she stares up at the ceiling to stop more tears from falling. 

“Because I l-” Margaery stops herself and reaches for Sansa’s hands again. “I’m sorry, Sansa. If I knew you’d be this upset, I wouldn’t have done this. I just thought you could use a break, focus on the things you really love.” 

“You _know_ me though,” Sansa admits sadly, “or I _thought_ you did.”

“I do, _I do_ ,” Margaery sounds pleading, “I know you. I know how stubborn you are and how you strong you are, but you know me too. You know how much I--I _care_ about you. You can’t honestly think I would do _nothing_. _Especially for you._ ” She reaches up to cup Sansa’s cheeks and brush aside the tears. 

“God, I _hate_ you so much right now,” Sansa cries. She knows it. She can feel it now how much Margaery is there for her and cares for her. She gets it. It’s just scary to put that trust in someone. To feel like she can really trust Margaery and **_god_** \--it makes her feel so much more for the older girl, like there’s a pull in her chest. 

So Sansa pulls her into a tight hug to feel the warmth of Margaery’s body against her chest because everything suddenly seems together and full. It wrenches inside of her but it soothes her that Margaery holds her back with the same strength. “ _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you_ ,” Sansa mutters because she doesn’t know what else to say. 

Margaery sags against her with a sigh. She hugs her tightly, breathing her in. With a strained laugh, she says, “I know you do.”

“ **Oh my godddddd** , that was beautiful! Stop it!” Jeyne’s voice suddenly fills the room. 

Sansa pulls away from Margaery completely forgetting that she was on a video chat with Jeyne. She quickly wipes the tears from her eyes and makes her way over to the computer. 

“She cares more about you than I care about you. I swore for a second it sounded like a break up.” Suddenly, Jeyne gasps. “Is this why you never want me to meet her? Because she’s gorgeous and she’s such a sweet talker? And that you’ve got a disgustingly large massive les--” 

Sansa slams the laptop shut. “ _Oh my god_ ,” Sansa exhales in a panic, hoping Margaery caught none of that.


	33. It reminded me of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry just wanted to post this to let you know IM ALIVE i've been hitting a major writers block but i hope that can resolve itself if i just keep trying to write stuff hahah hopefully more updates more consistently for the next couple of months this story got deeper than i intended clearly lol

Summer could not have come sooner (despite going by so quickly, not that Sansa really minds considering she's a bit bored in Winterfell). Sansa had to admit that her second year at KLA was much more _tumultuous_ than she expected it to be. Even if she can’t quite pinpoint her favorite moments, there were definitely moment of high emotions that she will always remember. 

Though she could have stayed in King’s Landing and worked at the diner for extra money, her parents feel like they haven’t seen enough of her. And there’d be plenty of work at her father’s office at City Hall.

As happy as she is to move forward from another year in the jungle, Sansa finds herself excited for the upcoming year. She feels more confident and steady in her place at KLA. While she spent a good deal trying to find a place where she belongs, it turns out it doesn’t nearly matter as much as _who_ the company is. 

Of course namely _Margaery_. 

Jeyne and Sansa are biking back from a day trip to the Godswood, sharing sandwiches and candy, swimming in the pond, and talking about what’s been happening in Winterfell all summer. According to Jeyne, there are rumors of Sansa’s father being encouraged to take up a special seat on Robert’s council. It’s just one big conspiracy to Jeyne though so Sansa can’t take that seriously.

“I’m telling you, Sans, if he wasn’t a Bolton, he’d just be an ordinary man,” Jeyne goes on riding beside Sansa, trying to gesticulate with one hand on the handlebar. “But otherwise you cannot convince me that he wouldn’t have flayed Lady had I not stepped in.”

“Oh god, Jeyne! _Flaying_?!” Sansa exclaims. “In this day and age?”

Jeyne looks at her in all seriousness. “We don’t know what he does up in Dreadfort. The name sounds as bad as it looks to be honest. It’s bloody dreadful.” 

“What were you doing bringing Lady up there anyway?” 

“We were going for a run together and suddenly, Lady took off. I’m lucky I managed to find her.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Your adventures are going to get you into trouble one day, Jeyne.”

Jeyne swerves her bike closer to Sansa’s suddenly and Sansa nearly falls off balance, shooting her friend a glare. “It’s so sweet that you care,” Jeyne coyly says as she continues to ride with ease.

Sansa grips her handlebars with a scoff. “Well obviously,” she admits as a matter of fact. “Who else would I trust to take care of Lady?”

Jeyne snorts as she weaves her bike side to side. “There is always Margaery,” she sing songs. 

Sansa grimaces. 

It’s been like this all summer. Jeyne mentioning Margaery at least once a day, if not once a conversation. Sansa has nothing against Margaery. She really doesn’t. It’s not like it bothers her to be reminded of the best-- _second best according Jeyne_ \--person she’s ever met, who is nothing but kind and gracious to her. She just doesn’t think it’s necessary to bring up Margaery _all_ the time. 

They pull up to the Stark mansion, where Lady is lying down on the front steps, lazily batting her tail from side to side. She raises her head to the sight of her master and jumps up excitedly.

“How _is_ she doing by the way?” Jeyne tries to act coy but she’s terrible at it.  

They park their bikes at the bottom of the steps as Sansa attempts to act like she hasn’t heard the question. 

Jeyne knows what that does to Sansa. It riles her up in the worst way. Sansa finds that she has a hard time formulating a sentence or a thought. But she’s learned. She’s had two months of the summer to learn. 

“Sansaaaa,” her best friend prods, bumping her shoulders as they make it up the steps to where Lady is happily panting for Sansa’s attention. “Give me the juicy details.”

“There’s nothing _juicy_. She’s fine,” Sansa responds nonchalantly. “She’s traveling in America with her family currently.” 

“Wow, you cannot tell me there isn’t anything juicy. Have you seen those American boys? They’re all gorgeous with their six pack abs and hilarious accents.”

Sansa rolls her eyes as she bends down to scratch Lady’s head. “If there are any boys, I wouldn’t know, Margaery never mentions any to me.” Not that it matters to her, they can go conversations without ever mentioning a boy. Even if boys do come up in conversations, it’s Margaery wondering if _Sansa_ has any boy in mind. She wonders if she should start asking Margaery if _she_ has any boy in mind. 

“Speak of the devil,” Jeyne suddenly voices. 

Sansa looks up and sees Jeyne holding a package up at the door. She leaves Lady, who follows excitedly to see as well. 

The package fits in Sansa’s arms comfortably and luckily it isn’t too heavy but according to the label it is at least 5 kg and most definitely from Margaery, with her neat script written on the box. Sansa doesn’t open it right away, as much as she’s dying to know what’s inside. 

She moves inside the mansion and drops the box on the dining room table to find a razor to open it up. Jeyne is thrumming with excitement. 

And it definitely doesn’t stop the onslaught of teasing. 

“Isn’t she a sweetheart?” Jeyne croons as she hovers around Sansa curiously. “Sending you gifts from across an ocean. If only I had someone who liked me enough to send me gifts from America. To take the time in the midst of those gorgeous men to think of me.”

Sansa cuts into the box, narrowing her eyes at Jeyne. It doesn’t stop the blush on her cheeks though and Jeyne sees this.

“She really is a good girlfriend, if you can’t even tell me I’m wrong.” 

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” Sansa exasperates. “She’s _not_ my girlfriend.” She tears open the flaps to the box to pull out the wrapping and bags of air. Her heart swells at the contents.

There’s a note sitting on top of what looks to be stacks of chocolate and other candies that Sansa has been dying to try since Margaery’s mentioned them to her. Sansa picks up the note and sees Margaery’s neat handwriting on the plain sheet. 

_It reminded me of you. Try not to eat so many, wouldn’t want your tummy to hurt._ -Margaery

Sansa smiles to herself, hearing Margaery’s sarcasm clearly in her mind. She sets the note aside before pulling out the bars marked Hershey, apparently there are several types and Sansa’s dying to try out the cookies and creme when she sees it. Underneath the chocolate there are plenty marked M&Ms and Skittles. She loves them all and can’t deny the fluttering sensation in her chest. 

“Good lord, it looks like she bought the whole bloody shop for you,” Jeyne says as Sansa hands her a couple of bags. “She’s enabling your sugar addiction!” 

“I thought you were saying it was _sweet_ of her to send me a gift,” Sansa cheekily quips. 

Sansa hums to herself happily as she unpacks the box. Jeyne scrunches her nose in disgust. “I’m regretting that now, clearly.”


	34. I'll wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next couple of chapters im going to try to delve more in character interactions with margaery to sort of establish some "oh..hmmm...vibessss"

”I swear she has a bladder the size of a pea,” Sansa grumbles into the phone. 

Margaery laughs at this. She hears the pout in Sansa’s voice as well as she complains. “You’ve known her for how long?” she reminds the younger girl. 

“Ugh...and I’m _still_ saying she has a bladder the size of a pea,” Sansa goes on. “I’m _so_ sorry about this, I told you we’d reach King’s Landing in an hour but now I’m thinking it’s going to be a bit longer.” 

“It’s fine,” Margaery says as she unpacks her luggage. “I’m still unpacking so at least I’ll be occupied.” 

“You really don’t have to come over today if you’re busy,” Sansa suggests. While she sounds wholly okay with not seeing her, Margaery can hear the disappointment in her voice.

Margaery smiles to herself because she’s always wanted Sansa to be a little more selfish. “I’ll wait,” she declares.

“Yeah?” Sansa chirps happily. 

“Of course,” Margaery reaffirms. “I’ll see you soon?”

\------------------

This is the last time Sansa is inviting her best friend on a road trip because it has been quite the trek. Luckily, her mum and dad were very much accommodating and considering they brought the truck and the van for Arya’s things, so there was most definitely space for Jeyne and mum didn’t mind breaks from driving, she always did find it tedious.

**Margaery** : is jeyne still alive?

**Sansa** : …for now

**Margaery** : ;P don’t be mean

**Sansa** : you’re not the one in the car with her

**Margaery** : trust me, loras is worse

**Margaery** : he actually thinks his hair goes flat the longer he is in a car

Sansa laughs to herself at the thought of Loras being fussy over his hair in the car. 

“What’s so funny over there?” Catelyn asks, glancing at her daughter briefly.

Sansa shrugs. “It’s nothing, just a text from Margaery,” she says casually as she thinks of a response to Margaery’s text. 

“Mmm.”

**Sansa** : that’s hilarious, i’m surprised you arent the same

**Margaery** : excuse me what’s that supposed to mean

“You’ve been talking about Margaery a lot. Is she the girl Arya mentioned?” 

**Margaery** : are you implying that my hair is a mess?

**Sansa** : :* :* i’m not saying anything

**Sansa** : if i were….

**Margaery** : you best not!

**Sansa** : hahaha 

**Sansa** : i WOULD say like brother like sister to be honest

“It was very nice of her to help you.”

**Margaery** : :O that’s not true

**Margaery** : I DO NOT COMPLAIN LIKE HE DOES ABOUT HAIR

Sansa scoffs at the text. She knows that’s a blatant lie. There have been plenty of times she’s remembered seeing Margaery’s beautiful brown hair “flat and dead to the world” as Margaery would say. Sansa is still jealous Margaery looks beautiful regardless of curls or not.

“Are we going to meet her? Your father and I would like to thank her.”  

**Sansa** : i remember the day you had swimming before lunch

**Sansa** : i’ve never seen your hair so...calm

**Margaery** : calm?! SANSA YOU TAKE THAT BACK

**Margaery** : NEVER BRING UP SWIMMING CLASS AGAIN

**Margaery** : I SKIPPED STUDY HALL TO FIX IT

Sansa giggles at Margaery’s text. Of course she remembers, Sansa accidentally ran into her in the bathroom during her biology class. 

“ _Sansa_? Have I lost my child to the internet?”

Sansa picks up her head, realizing that her mother is currently laughing at her. “What, mum? Did you say I was lost to the internet?” she scrunches her face in confusion. 

Catelyn shakes her head. “You were so enamoured by your phone, I thought I’d lost you.” 

Sansa pouts and sends a **:P** before closing her phone for the moment. “I was just texting Margaery.” 

“You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said have you?” 

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Sansa says, even though she feels the vibration in her hand.

Her mother just purses her lips, glancing curiously at her daughter. Sansa feels strange at the look, but she bites the urge to ask if it means anything. More than likely, it’s just her mum being weird.

\------------------

Sansa is texting Margaery to let her know that they’ve reached Uncle Petyr’s home.

“Looks like we have a guest,” Catelyn notes as they pull into the driveway after Ned’s truck.

Sitting in front of the house is Margaery’s blue Ford Fiesta that brings a smile to Sansa’s face. She can barely contain her excitement as her mother cuts the engine to the car, already unbuckling her seatbelt. 

The front door is opening and out walks Margaery with Uncle Petyr not far behind. As much as Sansa worries about Uncle Petyr having to entertain her friend, she is more excited about seeing Margaery first thing arriving in King’s Landing. 

Margaery meets Sansa in the middle of the driveway with open arms. Sansa wraps Margaery up in a hug, ducking to capture her underneath her arms and pick her up. Margaery yelps as Sansa picks her up and laughs as they spin around. 

When Sansa lets go of Margaery, her heart is racing and she takes in Margaery for the first time all summer. “You’ve gotten tan,” she notes as she pokes at Margaery’s cheeks before reaching for her hair. “Oh my god! Your hair got blonde!” 

Margaery throws her head back in a laugh. She reaches for Sansa’s hand to stop her from prodding. “It’s not blonde. It’s just lighter because of the ocean and pool water,” she corrects. “Look at you though, looking more Northern than ever.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that I know _exactly_ where you get your good looks from,” Margaery says as she looks past Sansa. Sansa looks over her shoulder to see her mum and dad approach after greeting Uncle Petyr. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Stark.” She immediately holds out her hand to shake. 

Ned smiles good naturedly, taking her hand, while Catelyn looks at Sansa before smiling politely at Margaery. Sansa doesn’t know what that look is supposed to mean and she hopes Margaery isn’t weirded out by it. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you Margaery,” Catelyn says as she takes her hand. “Sansa talks about you all the time. Nice to put a face to the name.” 

Sansa doesn’t know why, but she blushes beside Margaery. She brushes her knuckles against Margaery’s to catch her attention.

Margaery grabs onto Sansa’s hand without looking and smiles brightly at Catelyn. “Likewise for you two. Sansa speaks very highly of you.” 

Ned lets out a gruff laugh. “As she should.” 

Catelyn chides her husband playfully that has Sansa rolling her eyes. Margaery catches it and bumps her playfully to stop her. 

“ _ **Margaery**_!” 

Suddenly, Margaery’s hand is ripped from Sansa’s and all she sees is a mess of brown tackling her best friend. 

“ _Arya_!” both Catelyn and Sansa yell. 

Margaery lets out a laugh as she hugs Arya. 

“Are you here to help us move?” Arya asks as she clings onto Margaery. 

Sansa purses her lips as she bites the urge to pry her sister off of Margaery. “ _No_ , she isn’t,” Sansa answers as she does start tugging to get Arya off Margaery. 

“It’s fine, Sans,” Margaery say tightly as she pats Arya’s back. To say Arya was small was an understatement because Arya was perfectly tucked under Margaery’s chin. “I actually am here to help.” 

“Yesssss!” Arya cheers as she lets Sansa tug her away, but still remaining an arms length away. 

“Why are you hugging _my_ friend anyway?” Sansa grumbles as she stands between them. 

“Because she’s awesome,” Arya deadpans. “She’s going to coach me with fencing.” Ned and Catelyn look at each other with concern before looking at Margaery. 

“I wouldn’t say coaching,” Margaery explains quickly. “I am just going to show you some basics so you can see if you like it or not.” 

“No way, I’m going to love it,” Arya insists. 

Sansa feels her teeth grind as she stares between the two girls. “Since when do you two talk?” 

“I messaged her over the summer,” Arya answers without a care in the world. Sansa glares at her little sister. “What? You hate it when I steal your phone, so I thought I’d use the power of social media.” 

“Oiy! We should unload the car!” Jeyne yells from the truck. She’s finally awake apparently.

Sansa opens her mouth to say something when her father interrupts. “Alright, let’s move your stuff in so that we can discuss this hobby a little more thoroughly.” Ned reaches for Arya to direct her to the car. Catelyn and Petyr follow suit.

Sansa huffs before following with Margaery beside her. “I’m sorry about my sister,” she grumbles. “Clearly she has no common courtesy.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Margaery says. “Arya is cool.”

“Ugh, _cool_ is not how I would describe Arya.”

“I heard that!” Arya yells as she picks up a box to carry in. 

Sansa sticks her tongue out at her sister. 

Margaery stops dead in her tracks as a duffle gets pressed to her stomach. 

Jeyne stands before Margaery, just meeting her eyes with a duffle slung over her shoulder and the other pressed against Margaery. She’s just woken up from a nap and she’s a bit grumbly, but she looks menacing as she stares Margaery up and down. Sansa glares at Jeyne.

“Margaery, this is Jeyne,” Sansa introduces carefully. She honestly doesn’t know how this could’ve turned out, so she’s completely unprepared. 

“Her best friend in the whole world,” Jeyne declares as she shakes the duffle for Margaery to take. 

Margaery takes the bag with ease before sticking out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Jeyne,” she says. 

Jeyne narrows her eyes, clearly still sleepy. She looks to Sansa. “She’s prettier in person.”

“Jeyne!” 

Margaery stands there in confusion before Jeyne walks past Margaery stifling a yawn. She looks to Sansa. “Does that mean she likes me?” 

Sansa sighs in relief. At least Jeyne didn’t say anything entirely embarrassing for her. “She’s a grump when she wakes up. Give her an hour and then make your judgement.”


	35. Sit down, I’ll get it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT DEAD sorry for the long wait there's been a lot of stuff going on in my family and i've been trying to get back into writing because---this fic is going places i have clear directions i want to take this and i've already planned it out i just need to find more time to write it
> 
> this chapter is a bit short but you're probably going to have feels or scream out GAAAAAY
> 
> i am definitely going to try to be more diligent esp since i have some more free time in the summer when it isn't occupied by bullshit but fair warning i have a couple of projects i am also working on

After moving all of Arya’s thing in, there was finally a lull so that Sansa could have a moment with Margaery. _Alone_. Arya was excitedly unpacking, her parents were settling in one of the guest rooms, and Jeyne decided to take a shower before dinner. 

Sansa threw herself onto her bed in exhaustion from all of the emotions. She feels the dip in her bed next to her and looks up to see Margaery sitting there with a smile on her face. 

“Tired, princess?” Margaery asks playfully as she brushes her knuckle against her cheek. 

Sansa closes her eye to the touch before turning on her side to face Margaery. “Road trips are the worst,” she complains. “They’re so boring when all you do is just stare at the road.”

“It all depends on the company, trust me,” Margaery insists as she slides to lie down next to Sansa. “We should go on one together someday.”

Sansa laughs. “What if I end up killing you because of how much I hate it?” 

“As if you could ever hate my company,” Margaery jests haughtily. Sansa rolls her eyes. “You know it’s true. I promise, you’d enjoy a road trip with me. We could drive down to Dorne to enjoy the sun and beaches. Or we can go to America, take a drive along the coast of California, or through the deserts of Nevada, or maybe along the Cape.”

Sansa stares into Margaery’s eyes, the chestnut color shining like they’ve been lit with a passionate flame that mesmerizes her. The bright smile on Margaery’s face is mirrored on Sansa’s. 

“We can go _anywhere_ you want,” Margaery finishes, looking shyly under Sansa’s gaze. 

Sansa smiles affectionately because it’s been awhile since she’s been able to bask in Margaery’s presence. As tired and grumpy as she is, Margaery seems to bring out the best in her, getting her to smile and calm down. 

“I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to going on a trip with you,” Sansa admits. “I’d love to see all of these places you’ve been to.” 

Margaery smiles brightly before standing up to grab her phone off of Sansa’s desk. “I have some on my phone but I took a lot of photos, so I have to go through them before I post it on facebook. Did you get my package?” She asks as she looks through her phone for the album.

“Oh, I did!” Sansa says as she sits up. “I actually have something for you too. It’s not a whole shop but---” She moves to get off the bed. 

“Sit down, I’ll get it. Where is it?” Margaery asks moving towards Sansa’s luggage. 

Sansa bats at Margaery. “No, no, I’ll get it.” She hops off her bed and skirts around Margaery to pull out a small box from the top pocket of her luggage. There’s a moment Sansa clutches it with embarrassment, unsure if Margaery will even like it. 

Margaery tilts her head up to Sansa’s curiously. “Is that it?” 

Sansa all but thrusts the gift at Margaery with a blush as the what ifs overwhelm her thoughts. “It’s not much,” she blurts out. “Just a small thing to remind you of the North and that I’m from the North because that’s what we Northerners do.” She lets out a nervous laugh as she waits for Margaery to open it. 

Margaery opens the box while Sansa waits with bated breath. When she sees the content, her eyes soften and she smiles at it before taking it out. It’s a silver chain with a small pendant of the Stark direwolf sigil hanging from it. “It’s your family crest,” she says in awe. 

Sansa blushes before she rambles on. “Silver is a relatively neutral fashion statement, you can probably wear it casually or something. I know it’s not gold or anything like that, so it’s okay if you don’t wear it.”

Margaery shoots Sansa a look. “Do you think I only ever wear gold?” 

Sansa looks sheepishly at Margaery. “I--well--it’s just that your complexion is much better suited with gold.” Margaery shoots her another look. “I’m sorry? I can take it back, I won’t be offended.” She reaches for the the necklace when Margaery tugs it out of reach. 

“No take backs!” she defends. “I love it.” She unclasps it before turning her back to Sansa. “Help me put it on?” Sansa wipes her sweaty palms on her shirt before carefully clasping the necklace. Her hands accidentally brush Margaery’s as they both move Margaery soft hair over it. “Thank you,” Margaery mumbles as she turns to face Sansa, fingers tracing over the dips of the direwolf’s head. “It’s like I have a Stark protecting me now.” 

“Technically, you do,” Sansa unconsciously lets out. “It’s not silver, it’s actually Valyrian steel. There’s a legend that Valyrian steel---

“Holds magical properties from Valyria Freehold,” Margaery finishes proudly that it catches Sansa off guard. “AP High Valyrian.”

Sansa nods, “Of course.”

“Valyrian steel is a very _bold_ statement piece, Sansa, and very rare. _Please_ don’t tell me you’re giving me a family heirloom,” Margaery moves to take the necklace off when Sansa stops her. 

“It’s not a family heirloom,” Sansa reassures before rethinking her statement. “Well kind of? I have two because when I was a child I thought I lost mine, so my father had another one crafted for me, but then I found it recently so I figured you could have one. It’s not much compared to some of the stuff you’ve given me but I thought you’d like it since it has a lot of history.” 

Margaery throws her arms around Sansa in a tight hug. “I love it,” she says, chin digging into Sansa’s shoulder. 

Sansa bends just enough to meet Margaery and hugs her back. “I’m glad you like it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think that giving a girl a family heirloom is kind of like an engagement right? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ kids these days


	36. Try some

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i apologize for this gayness? NO ABSOLUTELY NOT

They’ve relocated to the living room where they’ve left a movie on in the background to fill the silence after the exhausting day. Ned and Catelyn are snuggled up on the smaller couch while Sansa is squished between Margaery and Jeyne. Arya sits on the ground by Margaery’s feet, not paying attention to the movie and showing Margaery clips of fencing matches on her iPad. Even if Sansa pouts at Arya dominating Margaery’s attention, Jeyne is at her side making fun of the movie and making suggestive comments and faces whenever Margaery looks over at Sansa. 

When dinner comes around, Margaery is ready to take leave for the Starks to enjoy some quality time, but to her surprise it’s Arya _and Jeyne_ that invite her to stay. 

Arya more demands it with, “Margaery, please stay! I want to ask you about your match with Missandei of Essos!” 

And Jeyne on the other hand lazily says, “She should stay since she helped out.” But Sansa knows the look on Jeyne’s face clearly means more.

Margaery doesn’t readily say yes because the real reason she is there is to see Sansa. So she waits for Sansa to chime in. 

Eventually Sansa does with a shy look to her mother and father and a quiet, “If it’s not too much trouble and if she’d like to stay.”

Catelyn nods and, of course, Ned agrees.

By the time they get to that point, food is already on its way courtesy of Petyr. 

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had Dornish food, right?” he seems to say more to Catelyn than Ned, sipping wine from his chair. 

Catelyn smiles as she sips her wine, “I suppose that’s one of the few things I miss from the south from time to time, right dear?” 

Ned nods in agreement. “We should learn to make some Dornish food to keep us warm in the winters.” He kisses her forehead gently as she snuggles close to him on the couch. There’s an impassive look on Petyr’s face before he goes to the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine.

Beside Margaery, Sansa sits with a grimace. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“She’s not very fond of Dornish food,” Catelyn answers diplomatically with a smile on her face. 

Jeyne on the other hand frankly says, “She _hates_ it.”

“It’s mainly because she can’t stand the _spices_ ,” Arya adds on top of it.

Sansa blushes because Margaery is staring at her in amusement. “It’s not for everyone,” she tries to save herself. “I just prefer other foods over others.” 

“Have you ever tried it?” Margaery asks curiously, just to make sure. 

Sansa tries to answer when there’s a chorus of “ _ **No**_ ” that makes her blush even harder. 

“When Sansa dislikes something, there’s no convincing her,” Ned informs as neutrally as he can. He still has a smile on his face that has Catelyn batting him playfully. 

“Macarons,” Arya reminds with disappointment. 

“Chocolate ice cream,” Jeyne chimes.

“Anything beef,” Catelyn notes.

“Gran’s green bean casserole,” Ned adds as well. 

Catelyn tuts him and adds, “Love, I agree with her on that.”

“Oh you would,” Ned argues. “You think the green beans get _too soft_.”

“How _else_ are you supposed to eat them, mum?” Arya comes to his defense.

“ ** _Firm_** ,” both Sansa and Catelyn answer in unison that has everyone chuckling. Catelyn makes a face at Ned that has Arya gagging. 

Margaery chuckles too before leaning in a bit. Sansa can’t help but feel her face get hotter and hotter, actually her whole body warms at the embarrassment (and proximity). 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Sansa whines softly, “if you tasted Gran’s casserole you’d say the same thing.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Margaery says as she tips her head to her parents sharing a kiss. Sansa feels her heart melt, hoping one day she’ll have that. “I’m laughing at how you and your mum are so similar.”

Sansa huffs. _She’s always gotten that._

Before Petyr can return with the bottle of wine, the food arrives and they set up in the living room. The Stark clan is obviously unbothered by Sansa’s unwillingness to partake in their meal as she opts for heating up some leftover pasta Uncle Petyr had made. Even he knows how picky she is and never ceases to be accommodating. 

“You’re pouting into your pasta,” Margaery quips bumping shoulders with Sansa.

“Let her pout,” Jeyne says, “it’s her fault for not liking Dornish food.”

“I’m not sure it’s not her fault,” Margaery defends with a smile on her face. Jeyne narrows her eyes about to make a quip, but Margaery looks at Sansa with determination. “She just needs a little convincing, doesn’t she?” 

“Good luck with that,” Arya says with her mouth full. Her mother has something to say about that and she apologizes immediately. 

Sansa rolls her eyes at her sister. “She’s right,” she admits to Margaery. “I really don’t understand what’s so good about Dornish food.”

Margaery gives Sansa a look that asks, _Really?_ It’s not one of disbelief because Margaery’s face lights up as if she’s rising to a challenge. Sansa’s seen that face plenty of times and suddenly, Margaery goes off as she usually does when she becomes passionate about something. 

“I’ll admit, Dornish food is an acquired taste but it’s a beautiful representation of the lavish and rich lifestyle of the south. The spices that are grown in Dorne are unlike any other because of the near year round warm weather. They’ve learned to enrich their foods with heat without ruining the integrity of the flavors in the meats and vegetables. And there is a balance between the dishes and sauces that marry both the hotness and the mildness. All you have to do is try some.”

Sansa blinks, realizing that Margaery has her spoon before her lips. She hadn’t realized that Margaery had basically scooped up a perfectly small bite for Sansa as she was talking for her to taste. And Sansa swallows thickly because she knows half of what Margaery said hasn’t set in her mind. She was preoccupied with staring at Margaery’s lips and hearing her voice like it was a siren’s song.

There’s a confident look on Margaery’s face as if she’s known her effect on Sansa. 

Sansa glowers instead. “That’s not going to work, not matter how _pretty_ your words are.”

“ _One bite_ and I’ll stop using pretty words,” Margaery offers. 

There’s very little room to argue with Margaery and Sansa _hates_ it. This is generally how Margaery convinces her (because she is _weak_ to say no).

“Fine,” Sansa huffs before taking a bite from Margaery’s spoon. 

There’s a clear gasp from Jeyne and a slap at her side that nearly makes Sansa choke on her food. Arya barks out a laugh at the fact Sansa was convinced to try something new and subsequently choking on her food, while Ned compliments Margaery on a job well done. 

“How was it?” Margaery asks with bright eyes.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “It was fine,” she begrudgingly says. It was _good_ , **of course** it was, Margaery never steers Sansa wrong. She just never wants to admit when Margaery’s right. 

“I feel betrayed as your best friend,” Jeyne says dramatically. “But I know you’re weak for pre---” 

Sansa takes the pillow behind her and slaps Jeyne in the face quickly. “You’re just not convincing,” she deadpans, earning a laugh from everyone. 


	37. You can have half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is ridiculously cute after this i have one more in this arc with jeyne before it goes back to its random fluff hijinks situations oh also there's this like fad now apparently EGG PUFF WAFFLE UNDERNEATH ICE CREAM its good if youve got a sweet tooth, i ironically do not lmao google it tho

To say that Jeyne loves Sansa is an understatement. She _loves_ Sansa and she’d scream it from the rooftop if she could because Sansa is her best friend _in the whole world_. They grew up with each other like sisters, especially since Jeyne’s family had been close to Sansa’s for generations. They were always thick as thieves (mainly because of Jeyne’s mischief). 

So, Jeyne has to admit that when Sansa decided to go to school in King’s Landing she was heartbroken. It felt weird having her best friend so far away without knowing what she was up to. They always talked, every single day, but sometimes the texts were sparse or Sansa would be moodier some days than others. But they never kept anything from each other. They practically knew _all_ of each other’s secrets. 

Jeyne honestly doesn’t know why Sansa just doesn’t admit it now to _get it over with_. 

“I think I might die,” Jeyne says as she bites into her sundae. She shoves a generous spoonful with the egg puff underneath it into her mouth. The fluffy warm cake mixed with the fresh ice cream makes her moan. “This is so _gooood_.”

“It really is,” Sansa agrees as she digs into her own sundae. “It’s one of the few places here that taste like home.” 

“That’s because no one in King’s Landing wants to eat ice cream,” Jeyne scrunches her nose in disgust. “They prefer that low fat, sugar free, appalling excuse of a replacement called frozen yogurt.” 

Sansa nearly chokes on her ice cream. “Don’t say it too loudly, they’ll know you’re from out of town.” 

Jeyne rolls her eyes and waves her spoon. “As if I’d care. The only dessert that truly matter is ice cream and anyone that says otherwise is not from the North.”

“No one from the North even says that.” 

“Are you kidding me? Have you _ever_ seen frozen yogurt in the North?” Jeyne argues. 

Sansa licks her spoon thoughtfully and shrugs. “I mean, you’re not wrong. But we can learn to appreciate new things from time to time.”

Jeyne smirks. “Like your new found appreciation for _Dornish food_?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sansa says quickly as she finishes the chocolate portion of her sundae and quickly moves to the vanilla. 

Jeyne scoops up some of her strawberry ice cream and holds it in front of Sansa playfully. “ _All you have to do is try some_ ,” Jeyne mocks in an extra high voice that has Sansa laughing as she turns red. 

Sansa backs her head as Jeyne tries to spoon feed her. “You’re being ridiculous! She doesn’t sound like that.”

“Oiy, I’m offering you ice cream and you don’t eat it?” 

Sansa rolls her eyes before leaning in to take the bite. “Thank you,” she says with her mouth full. 

Jeyne purses her lips and nods. “That’s what I thought.” Sansa sticks her tongue out at her best friend. “Margaery certainly does have a _way_ with you.” She says it in a way that clearly has Sansa shoving more ice cream into her mouth as the tips of her ears turn red.

“I’m in King’s Landing, if I didn’t try new things, what else would I be doing?” Sansa argues. “Besides, it’s not like Margaery convinces me to do _everything_.”

“Sure she doesn’t,” Jeyne quips. She knows of all the times when Sansa’s had a decision to make how ‘ _Margaery says_ ’ comes up in conversation. While she is still grateful to know that Sansa takes her opinion on matters seriously, Jeyne can’t help but notice Margaery’s influence as well. “I must be mistaken by how you talk about her _constantly_.”

Sansa huffs. “It’s not _that_ often. I’m not replacing you, Jeyne,” she reminds seriously.

Jeyne glowers at her best friend. “I know you’re not. I just like making fun of you because your relationship with Margaery is clearly different from our friendship.” 

“ _Friendship_ ,” Sansa grits out. “Margaery and I are **friends**.” 

Jeyne raises her eyebrows. Her wordless argument still shuts Sansa up.

“Margaery is just so smart and clever, everyone loves her to death. She’s been nothing but amazing and kind to me. I felt alone in King’s Landing for the longest time and she’s been so helpful in changing that,” Sansa goes on unprompted. “It’s nice having a friend like her here. I’ve learned so much from her by being here about myself and what I can do.”

Jeyne hums thoughtfully as she eats her ice cream. She can see that. She’s seen how much Sansa’s changed. In the best way. Sansa’s always seemed quiet and reserved, polite and kind, she’s perfect in all respects, but now she’s _stronger_. Jeyne sees her friend make decisions with less apprehension and openly discuss something that bothers her. Sansa’s always had a look on her face when something or someone’s displeased her, but now at least Sansa sends Jeyne a text or gives her a call about it. 

Jeyne’s always told Sansa to be a little less self conscious and now she’s slowly coming out of her shell. 

Jeyne sees the door to the shop open and Margaery walk in, wearing yoga capris and a light jacket. Jeyne tilts her head, she can see the attraction to a girl like Margaery. She’s got a cute face, nice complexion, great hair. She even _glistens_ as opposed to sweat.

Jeyne smiles at her friend as she scoops up another bite and holds it up for Sansa. “I get it, she’s amazing,” Jeyne grumbles playfully. “Now shove your face before you run out of things to say about her.” 

Sansa blushes as she eats the bite.

“Am I interrupting your _date_?” Margaery approaches their table with a bright smile on her face. 

Jeyne holds back a laugh as Sansa struggles to swallow the ice cream. “If this were a date, there’d be a lot more hand holding,” she jokes. “This one is needy.” 

“Margaery!” Sansa greets as she moves over a seat for her to sit down. “Did you text? I thought you were still busy.”

Margaery sits down, sending a small smile to Jeyne. “I just finished my run and it took me near here. I saw you through the window.” 

Jeyne grimaces. “You run? Willingly?” 

Margaery laughs. _Hell even her laugh is pretty_. “It’s a habit I picked up from my brothers.”

“Did you already order?” Sansa asks quickly. “We’d only just gotten here.”

Margaery shakes her head. “I don’t really run with much as you can see.” She pats down her empty pockets. 

“You must be hungry,” Sansa notes aloud with a bit of concern. Jeyne watches as her friend starts to fuss. “Did you want me to get you something?”

Margaery waves her off. “It’s alright, Sansa. I’m not too hungry. I just wanted to stop by and say hi.” Sansa does start to fuss when Margaery assures her that not eating right away isn’t going to kill her. 

“How far did you run?” 

“Just a couple miles.” 

“That means about _five_. You have to eat something.” 

“It’s fine honestly. I’m still metabolizing.” 

“That’s precisely why you should eat.” 

“I’m burning fat, Sansa.”

“You don’t need to.” 

“So you say.” 

“Because you look---”

Jeyne holds back a laugh at the verbal ping pong Sansa and Margaery have gotten themselves in. It’s mainly Sansa’s fault for fussing without even realizing it. It used to bother Jeyne, but she’s gotten used to it. Margaery takes it in stride. 

“Look what?”

“You look _fine_ \---a **good** _fine_ \---you run!”

Margaery tilts her head, teasingly at Sansa. “Good fine?”

Jeyne sucks on her spoon, enjoying this far too much as she watches silently as the other two slip into their own little world. But she knows that Sansa is running out of material. “Alright, you,” she interrupts, “just eat something. Sansa’s mother henning won’t stop otherwise.” 

“Mother henning?” Margaery asks in confusion.

Jeyne nods. “She’s a mother hen, constantly nagging with worry, this one.”

“Hey!” Sansa interjects without any real argument. 

“Like a mother hen?” Margaery clarifies.

Jeyne stares at her in confusion before nodding. “Why don’t I just get her something?” she says getting up. 

“No, honestly, thank you!” Margaery quickly protests. “I appreciate it, but I am not that hungry.”

Sansa shakes her head and pushes her plate towards Margaery. “Here, have some. We can share.”

“Sansa---” Margaery protests. Jeyne stares in awe at this development. “You love this. It's strawberry.”

“You have to eat,” Sansa insists. “You can have half. I don’t mind.” 

Margaery looks at Jeyne for help, but Jeyne shrugs. Sansa quickly offers to get up and get another spoon. “Mother hen,” she reminds as an inarguable fact. “And just so you know, Sansa _hates_ sharing her dessert. So just eat it before she spoon feeds you herself.”

Jeyne smiles more to herself as Sansa comes back with another spoon for Margaery. They’re about to dig in, Margaery looking at Jeyne to reassurance before turning the plate so the strawberry ice cream is closer to Sansa. Sansa blushes before sheepishly eating it. 

Sansa looks up at Jeyne. **Shut up.**

Jeyne smirks knowingly in return. _Friends, my arse._


	38. No reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne has some words for Margaery and she's going to damn well take it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wears a flower* im not queer JOKES I AM TOTALLY QUEER and so are my ladies right here, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM, i hope you enjoy this shovel talk

This is the only time she hope she’ll ever have to do this. As much as Jeyne hates to admit it, she thinks Margaery is a semi-decent human being worthy enough of Sansa. She thinks. Her duty as Sansa’s best friend is to look out for her no matter what. 

“I can’t tell if she likes me,” Margaery says to Sansa. 

There’s a quiet laugh from Sansa. “I’m sure she likes you. She and I are both really weary when we first meet someone.” 

“Yes, but I wasn’t nearly apprehensive to get to know you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeyne can tell Sansa is pouting just by the way she says it. 

“Well, you know you’re _you_. You’re Sansa Stark, who _wouldn’t_ want to get to know you.” Margaery lets out a light laugh and Jeyne can hear a pat that Sansa lands. “She’s your best friend. I don’t want her not to _like_ me.”

Jeyne holds back a smile on her face. _Good. Keep thinking that._ She very well couldn’t have Margaery think that she _actually_ likes her. She’s taken a stance and that will always be by Sansa’s side. 

“Why does it bother you so much?” Sansa asks curiously. 

“It doesn’t bother me that much,” Margaery answers sheepishly. Even Jeyne can tell Margaery is hiding something. 

“I mean you never worry about anyone liking you because you know that they do. So what’s _different_ about Jeyne?” Sansa’s voice changes subtly. Her tone gets a bit serious. 

To be honest, it’s downright _jealous_. Jeyne cringes. This is _**not** _ going to be one of those situations. There’s no chance in hell she would ever _**like** _ Margaery, the _obvious_ object of Sansa’s affection. Jeyne is about to stop her creeping when she hears Margaery stammer. 

_Margaery stammering??_ Jeyne didn’t think that Margaery could be anything but composed. 

“Well, she’s your best friend. Her opinion matters and I just don’t want her to think I’m not good enough for you,” Margaery admits. It’s odd hearing her so vulnerable, but she definitely cares about Sansa.

Jeyne remains firm. She **has** to give Margaery a piece of her mind. 

Sansa hums, unconvinced. To a point, Jeyne can really appreciate her friend still being cautious around a girl like Margaery. “I’m sure it’s fine,” Sansa brushes off, her voice still latent with tension. “Jeyne knows I like you, so it’s not like she’s going to beat you up or anything.” 

_Did she just?_ Jeyne holds her breath. _Did she just tell Margaery how she feels? Like that?_

“Would she beat me up?” Margaery asks, alarmed. 

_Did you not just hear her?_ Jeyne curses Margaery in frustration. _Margaery, are you_ **daft** _?_

Sansa laughs like there’s some relief. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t,” she answers in a roundabout way. “But it’d make me _very_ cross if she did.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Margaery responds unsatisfied. 

“Oh you poor baby,” Sansa croons playfully. “Really though, why are you so worried about Jeyne?”

A beat. 

“No reason.”

Jeyne can tell she’s lying. Margaery just bold faced lied to Sansa. And she hopes that Sansa calls her out on it. After all, Margaery _has_ to know that Sansa likes her. Sansa isn’t all that good at lying. 

There’s no sound and it seems like the conversation has come to an end. 

_If that’s the case,_ Jeyne thinks as she knocks on the door finally. It’s time for her to come through and have a _little_ **chat**. She doesn’t wait for a response because there’s no way Sansa would be in a compromising position ( _when they damn well could be_ ). She pushes her way into Sansa’s room as she’s always done even back in Winterfell. 

“Sansa, your mum was looking for you,” Jeyne announces. 

Margaery, who was apparently resting her head on Sansa’s lap, launches herself off the bed quickly to stand and Sansa sits on her bed, hand where Margaery’s head was apparently. Jeyne can tell Margaery’s hair was being played with by Sansa by the slight mess. 

Jeyne raises her eyebrows at Sansa, who begrudgingly gets up, before looking at Margaery. “Margaery,” she greets coolly. 

Margaery stares back at Jeyne timidly. “Hello, Jeyne,” she greets politely. The worst part is that it’s not even fake, Margaery is actually polite. 

“I’ll be right back,” Sansa says to Margaery before shooting a glare at Jeyne to be nice as she makes her way to find her mum. 

It leaves Margaery and Jeyne standing in the room staring at one another. Margaery stands relatively still, both assessing Jeyne and what her possible moves are. Jeyne has never been one for chess, but she can play aggressively. She doesn’t waste another moment letting Margaery know her intentions. 

Jeyne turns around and shuts the door, just enough so that if Sansa comes back she’ll have a warning. 

Margaery raises an eyebrow as she takes a step back. 

It’s nice to have an upperhand. Jeyne smirks to herself as she clasps her hands behind her back and steps towards Margaery. “It was very nice meeting you, Margaery,” Jeyne begins sweetly. Just because she’s Sansa’s friend doesn’t mean she’s above messing with people. 

Margaery swallows as Jeyne gets into her space. She stands as tall as she can, just a couple inches shorter than Jeyne but still confidently. “It was nice meeting you too.” She takes a step to give herself some room. 

Jeyne tilts her head as if to inspect her. More so trying to maintain eye contact. “I’m really glad you’re friends with Sansa.”

“I am too,” Margaery breathes out. Her eyes dart to the door. “You’re really special to her.”

Margaery isn’t entirely dumb. She knows how this looks. Jeyne knows how it looks and she has to keep a straight face because Margaery needs to know if Jeyne finds a crack in her armor, she’s done.

“It seems like you are too,” Jeyne reminds. She places her hands on Margaery’s shoulders and instantly feels her tense. Margaery leans back subtly, holding her breath. Clearly, Margaery’s never met someone rough around the edges like Jeyne. “So from one friend to another, we wouldn’t do anything to hurt Sansa _right_?” She squeezes Margaery’s shoulders. 

“Never,” Margaery answers automatically. She doesn’t even have to think about her answer. Her intention is revealed in her eyes. “I’d never hurt her.”

“Good,” Jeyne chirps. She flicks a stray piece of thread like she meant to do that and claps Margaery’s shoulders. “I like to think I’d hate to hurt you.” Margaery tries to laugh it off but Jeyne can tell the girl is mildly terrified at the thinly veiled threat.

Jeyne lets go of Margaery and steps away. She can hear Sansa’s footsteps make their way back to the room. 

Just like Jeyne had done, Sansa pushes the door open without an announcement. 

“Mum says they’re heading out as soon as she’s done making lunch,” Sansa informs as she walks in. “Why was the door closed?” Sansa asks in confusion. 

Jeyne smirks at Sansa as she walks over to her and throws an arm over her shoulder. “ _No reason_ ,” she cheekily answers as she plants a kiss on Sansa’s cheek. “Come on, I need to give you something before I leave.” 

“Uh--should I wait?” Margaery asks quickly. 

Sansa rolls her eyes at Jeyne’s antics before looking back at Margaery. “I’ll be right back,” she huffs as Jeyne drags her out of the room. 


	39. Call me if you need anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's annoyed that Arya's getting a lesson from Margaery before her competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this series is literally made to be fluffy and adorable for the most part 90% of it is pure fluff and even if there's angst sprinkled in its going to make the fluff all the better
> 
> these girls are totally in love and i just wanted to let you guys know if you ever need a pick me up, the reason why i wrote it one shot style is so you can always throw on a random chapter and get some sort of good feelings out of it; so thank you again for all of your overwhelming support and readership i really appreciate knowing that people are reading this project and are patiently awaiting updates

”Are you _sure_ you should be doing this?” Sansa questions for the umpteenth time.

Arya groans from behind her as Loras helps her put on the fencing jacket. “Sansa, you’re _nagging_ again,” she reminds her older sister. She jerks a bit as he tugs her snugly in. 

Sansa throws a look over her shoulder that Arya responds with raised eyebrows. 

“You _are_ nagging!” Arya affirms causing Loras to laugh. “She is!” She complains to him. 

“I’m not nagging,” Sansa argues. “I’m just looking out for Margaery.” 

Loras scoffs. “She’ll be fine, Sansa. As sweet as it is that you worry for my dearest sister’s wellbeing, Margaery could use the extra practice.”

“It’s one thing if it’s practice, but it’s another thing _teaching_ my sister,” Sansa keeps on as she reaches for the fencing mask. “Are you sure she has to do it today?” 

Margaery secures her jacket before shaking out her hair. “She was the one that suggested it,” Margaery finally speaks up. She moves to Sansa and moves to the fencing mask from her. Sansa warms at the way Margaery’s hands cover hers. “It’s perfectly fine for me to teach your sister how to fence. It’ll really improve my skill set if I can step out of being a competitor.”

Loras gags. “Tone it down, little sister, you are starting to sound like Oberyn.”

“He’s a fine teacher,” Margaery says. 

“That’s because he’s very easy on the eyes,” Loras teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “You hang on every word he says, even if he sounds like a weird zen master.” 

“Oberyn as in Oberyn Martell?” Arya excitedly asks. “You’ve fenced with him? I’ve only ever seen him do wushu!”

“He was in town for a week visiting Willas and we got to talking,” Margaery casually explains. “He prefers the saber, while I prefer the rapier, but he gave me some great tips regardless.”

“Wow, you have to tell me everything, is he as talented with the lance as he is with a sword?” Arya goes on, full speed ahead. 

“Aww, do you have a crush on him, Arry?” Loras ruffles her hair. 

Arya pouts and bats Loras’ hand away. “Come on, I’ve already got 2 older brothers that like doing that.”

“Be nice,” Sansa quickly chides. “I’m sorry, Loras, usually she’s well mannered.”

“Pfft, I’m not a dog,” Arya moves to kick at Sansa, who easily blocks it with her own kick.  

“Alright, you two,” Loras says as he throws an arm around Sansa’s shoulder to stop the fight from escalating.

Margaery laughs to herself. “I’ve always wanted to see the Stark sisters fight. I’ve only ever heard it.” 

Sansa blushes as she lets herself be pulled away from Arya, who sticks her tongue out. “You do not want to see us fight, trust me.”

“You’d only see Sansa lose to be honest,” Arya quips as she moves around her sister and Loras to Margaery’s array of weapons. They all look the same but Arya and Margaery can tell the subtle differences. “Which should I use Margaery?” 

“Try the two on the right,” Margaery suggests, allowing Arya free reign as she reaches for Sansa’s hand. Sansa instantly takes it without question, letting their hands fit together before lacing their fingers. 

“Hey, where are you taking her?” Loras asks with a pout. “We’re supposed to get lunch so we can talk about you.” 

Margaery rolls her eyes at her brother. “Don’t be needy, she’s _my_ best friend. Give me a second. Help Arya choose a sword will you?”

“What’s up?” Sansa asks as Margaery pulls her just outside the door. 

“Are you okay?” Margaery asks in return as she pats her hair down. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve just been a little...agitated? Does it bother you that I’m teaching Arya?” Margaery stares up at Sansa curiously, trying to understand what’s going on.   

Sansa looks sheepishly at the ground beneath them. She doesn’t know what exactly it is she’s feeling. _Of course_ , she’s annoyed at Arya because that’s a general baseline of their relationship. Yet, this felt different. Like she was bothered by Margaery too. Margaery hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Margaery has always been great to Sansa and recently, her parents, Arya, and _seven hells_ , even **Jeyne**. Sansa feels a tug in her chest. **Even Jeyne**. Jeyne was acting so strange the last day she was there. Neither Margaery nor Jeyne mentioned their little conversation, which is _fine_. But, Sansa can’t help but feel uneasy. 

Sansa holds onto Margaery’s hand tighter. “It’s fine,” she breathes out. _It’s honestly fine._ But there’s a irking feeling in the back of her mind. “I really think you should be focusing on yourself though. Your competition is next week.”

Margaery has a look on her face like she doesn’t want to drop it, but she does. “I’ll be fine,” she reassures. “You’re still coming right?” 

“I mean, Arya wants to see you too,” Sansa reminds as if it’s an excuse. 

Margaery clicks her tongue as she tugs at Sansa’s hand. “Stop it. I’m really happy you finally get a chance to see me compete. Maybe you can be my good luck charm.” 

Sansa scoffs. “As if. How could I ever be your good luck charm if I’ve never seen you compete before?” 

“You never know. Some matches are very close. Now that I know I have you in the audience I might perform better.” 

“That sounds like you’re trying to impress me more than anything.” 

“And what if I am?” Margaery wiggles her eyebrows playfully. Sansa bites her lip at the comment because it vaguely sounds as if Margaery is _flirting_ with her. 

She pushes at Margaery’s shoulder in return. “Shut it you.” Sansa desperately tries to stomp down the butterflies that have burst from their cages. 

“Make me,” Margaery continues as she leans in. 

Sansa holds her breath as Margaery stares up at her. She’s seen Margaery’s bright brown eyes before, hundreds of times, but never like this. Never this deep and mesmerising that makes her heart skip a beat and cheeks warm with color. 

Suddenly there’s a **_thump_ ** and Margaery ungracefully falls forward with a yelp. Her face mask goes flying onto the ground. 

Sansa catches her in her arms quickly before looking behind Margaery to see what’s happened. 

“Are you two done? I’m famished!” Loras informs obnoxiously with half his body from behind the door. He takes a moment to look at the two girls before he realizes he’d push the door into his little sister. “Oh, sorry, Marg.” He does not sound sorry at all.

Margaery huffs as she extricates herself from Sansa’s arms. “Just a second, _brother_ ,” she grumbles. 

Loras disappears back into the room at his sister’s tone but not without giving her a _look_ through the window. 

“Sorry about that,” Margaery apologizes as she bends down to pick up her face mask. 

Sansa stands there dumbly, trying to process what had happened. _Well what was about to happen? Make me?_ She thinks to herself. _How was I supposed to make her stop? Why would I ever do that?_

“Did I knock the wind out of you?” Margaery jokes as she runs her hand through her hair. 

Sansa gulps at the way Margaery’s fingers card her chestnut locks. It’s not like Sansa hasn’t done that before but the effect is vastly different when Margaery does it herself. It looks regal and elegant. “I’m fine,” Sansa chokes out quickly. “You should get back in there and Loras and I should get to lunch.”

Margaery smirks as if she knows something. “Lunch,” she repeats with mirth. “Loras probably wants to go to lunch as a ruse to go shopping.”

“Why would he do that?” Sansa asks in confusion. 

“If he suggests the Centre for lunch, he’ll want to shop after, trust me,” Margaery forewarns gently. Sansa isn’t convinced but Margaery isn’t bothered by it. Margaery tugs off a hair tie from her wrist and hands it to Sansa. “Do you mind pulling my hair up?” 

“Can’t you do it yourself?” Sansa quips playfully, but still taking the hair tie. 

“I like it better when you do it,” Margaery returns as she spins around. 

Sansa runs her fingers through Margaery’s hair and feels Margaery’s head move with her hands. “Stop moving.”

“I can’t help it. It feels nice.” 

Sansa is glad Margaery’s not facing her because she’s surely blushing. She’d just thought about the way her fingers run through Margaery’s hair. She meticulously gathers Margaery’s soft locks together and twirls them into a bun that rests perfectly above her neck. 

Margaery turns back around with a cheeky smile on her face. “Now’s when you give me a kiss for good luck, you know that right?” 

Sansa lets out an embarrassed squeak because she feels her cheeks on fire now. “Stop it,” she whines as she turns Margaery towards the door. “You’re so playful today.” 

Margaery laughs as she opens the door to the room again. “I’ll see you later. Call me if you need anything,” she says over her shoulder as she informs Loras that she’s done talking with Sansa. 

Sansa stands outside waiting for Loras, but mainly she cups her warm cheeks and hopes that she’s calmed down before Loras comes out. He’d prod her worse than Robb would and she honestly, wouldn’t know how to describe how Margaery might have been flirting with her.  Or how **she** thought about _kissing_ Margaery. 


	40. Good luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all i have to say on this chapter is: moody margaery, supportive sansa, return of the letterman, almost kiss

Sansa tugs on the jacket around her shoulder self consciously before she pushes her hair behind her ears. She’s early and this is probably one of the few times she hates being early. Because now she’s sitting on the bleachers on her own, not sure if she was in the right area. She had seen signs for Margaery’s team, but save for the coach, there’s no one Sansa recognizes. 

It doesn’t help that Arya’s already going between teams introducing herself and getting signatures. It’s a minor competition but apparently a very niche community.

She has to say though, it’s nice to see Arya so enthusiastic about something. Her parents have expressed worry for Arya before, scared she’d be too flaky with her interests to stick with something. Sansa doesn’t see that at all. This exposure is good for her and she’ll be able to keep up with it. 

As Margaery says, “ _She needs a little encouragement. Encouragement goes a long way. Trust me, I’ve got three brothers._ ” 

Sansa wonders if Arya became interested in this stuff because Jon. Maybe everything at home was getting overwhelming because Robb and Jon were both away. 

“Sansa!” 

She looks to find Loras coming into the gym with Margaery behind him, already dressed in her uniform, carrying her bag. She hops down from where she’s sitting to meet them. 

“Hey, you took awhile,” Sansa says before Loras intercepts her from Margaery.

Margaery doesn’t say anything as she drops her bag next to one of the chairs and pulls out her mask. Clearly, she’s in a _foul_ mood. She doesn’t even regard Sansa as she goes to check in with her coach.

“What happened?” Sansa asks with worry. 

Loras sucks in a breath. “It’s nothing major, just a little tiff with grandmother.”

Sansa frowns. “Is anyone else coming?”  

“Garlan and Leonette are parking the car right now and Renly should be here soon,” Loras cheerfully says. 

Sansa blushes because not only is there one glamorous couple, there are **two**. How the Tyrells manage to find such beautiful people is _beyond_ Sansa. “Now I feel like a bit of fifth wheel,” she jokes.

Loras laughs as he pulls her in closer to ruffle her hair. “That’s not true, you’ve got Margaery.” 

Sansa blushes even harder as she pushes away from Loras and pokes him in the side like she does when Robb does the same thing. “You know what I mean,” she grumbles. “You’re all _couples_.”

Loras hums with a glint in his eyes. “Well _girlfriend_ or not, you can be _extra_ supportive of Margaery today. She’s going to need it. Either she’s going to be too aggressive or too distracted. She needs a win today.” 

Sansa nods in agreement. “You know I’ll always be extra supportive of Margaery,” she chirps as she pulls the letterman around her more snugly and turns around. “I’ve got her name on my back.” 

Loras laughs. “Is that her old letterman?”

“Yup!” 

“And you stitched her name in yourself?” Loras asks impressed as he runs his hand across the script. 

“Yup!” Sansa bounces a bit. “Do you think she’ll like it?” 

Loras smirks. “You’re good with your hands clearly.” Sansa tilts her head in confusion. He rolls his eyes with amusement. “Yes, she’ll love it,” he clarifies. “Go talk to her. Maybe it’ll get her out of her funk before the match starts. I’m going to find your darling sister and get us some seats.” He slaps her ass as she walks by him.

Sansa yelps and glares at him but he doesn’t notice as he yells for Arya.

Time to find Margaery.

The thing is Sansa has found Margaery frustrated before, but not quite like this. Her behavior is oddly reminiscent of Rickon’s when he’s throwing a tantrum. She can tell by the way Margaery rips her zipper open back and forth, letting it get caught, only fueling her frustration. She grumbles and huffs as she opens what she can to see if she can pull her sword out, but it isn’t enough. 

“ _ **Fuck**_ ,” Margaery hisses. 

Sansa winces because Margaery tries very hard not to swear. She’s like a proper princess for the most part. 

“Margaery?” Sansa timidly calls, trying not to startle the older girl. 

“ _What?_ ” Margaery hisses suddenly as she turns, chestnut locks whipping over her shoulder. 

Sansa stands up straighter and raises her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” 

Margaery’s eyes instantly softens, even turns a bit guilty the minute she realizes it’s Sansa. “Sorry, yes. Just a bit of a trying morning,” she brushes off. She pushes her hair back and tries to get it orderly as she takes a breath in. 

“Is there something I can help with?” Sansa asks, stepping just a bit closer. 

Margaery turns back towards her bag and tries to open the zipper again. This time it’s actually caught and instead of fighting it, Margaery’s shoulders sag just a bit in resignation. 

Sansa decides she hates it. She doesn’t want Margaery to be upset. “Here, let me,” Sansa says as she places her hands on Margaery’s shoulders and gently moves her aside. She looks at the state of the zipper quickly and with a gentle tug close, she aligns the teeth and opens it efficiently. She sees the two swords sitting in the bag and takes the one that’s slightly worn underneath the hilt. “Is it this one that you need?” 

Margaery chews the inside of her cheek as she takes the sword from Sansa. “This one will do,” she sheepishly says as she holds onto it. She looks at it thoughtfully. 

“Is there something else you need?” Sansa asks as she dips her head to meet Margaery’s eyes. Margaery hangs her head and shakes it. Sansa bites her lip. She cups Margaery’s face in her hands and brings her face up so that she can stare into the girl’s eyes. She squeezes just a bit until Margaery has a confused look on her face. 

“What’re you doing?” Margaery tries through her squished face. 

“I want to make sure you’re okay,” Sansa answers with a giggle. “You look adorable like this.” She squishes Margaery’s cheeks between her palms even more for emphasis. 

This garners a laugh from Margaery. “Stop it,” Margaery laughs as she bats at Sansa’s hands. “You’re being silly.”

“And you’re upset,” Sansa deadpans as she grabs onto Margaery’s wrists to still her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Margaery stares at Sansa. Sansa willingly lets Margaery stare into her eyes, as if she’d be able to tell Sansa’s intent. She’s her friend, she just wants to help. Margaery shakes her head, breaking eye contact. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she admits. “It’ll probably just make me more upset.” 

“Is there anything else I can do?” Sansa offers quickly. 

Margaery takes a deep breath. She’s always been more independent, even though her older brothers all spoil her. She tries to make her own way and stand on her own. But looking at Sansa, she doesn’t have to sometimes. And it feels a bit terrifying to know Sansa wants to be there for her just as much as she wants to be there for Sansa. 

“Can I have a hug?” Margaery asks quietly. 

Sansa looks at Margaery incredulously. “You never have to ask me that,” she declares as she wraps her arms around Margaery’s shoulders. She pulls Margaery into her chest and lets her wrap her arms around her waist. Sansa can feel the way Margaery breathes her in as she tucks her face into her shoulder comfortably. Her arms tighten around Margaery’s shoulders.

Margaery relaxes into Sansa. She lets go of her sword to hold onto Sansa, hands sliding up Sansa’s shoulder blades like vines. She clings just a bit, letting herself do so because her frustration runs deep into her veins. After a moment, she feels the thumping of Sansa’s heart against her chest and she breathes, hoping her heart will follow in tandem. 

Sansa strokes Margaery’s hair gently, trying to bring more comfort to her. At times like this, Sansa feels less awkward about her height. She actually feels like she can do something for Margaery this way. For once, she feels like she’s protecting Margaery. 

“You’re such a good hugger,” Margaery mumbles warmly against Sansa. 

Sansa blushes. “You act as if I never hug you,” she says back with a gentle sway. 

Margaery lets out a small whine. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to compete.” 

Sansa knows Margaery doesn’t mean that. Margaery would never throw away an opportunity. She might not like something, but she’d do it because she already said she would. “You have to. This is the first time I’m supposed to see you compete. You’re supposed to impress me, remember?” 

Margaery slowly pulls away from Sansa and looks up at her with misty eyes. Sansa feels her heart tug as she brushes her thumbs against Margaery’s cheekbones, letting her know it’s okay to cry. Margaery doesn’t though. She looks up at Sansa with a diligent nod. “I know, I _know_. I’m supposed to show you how _skilled_ I am,” she tries to jest. It’s not quite up to her usual flirty mood, but it’s getting there. 

“Let me do your hair,” Sansa says as she steps behind Margaery. Her hands stroke Margaery’s soft locks and she can feel a gentle shiver from Margaery as she does it. She takes her time with it, giving herself a few extra seconds to meticulously pull any stray strands before expertly spinning it into a neat bun. 

Margaery turns to Sansa to say thank you when she notices it. “Are you wearing my letterman?” 

Sansa smiles brightly. “I am. I wanted to show you my support in a special way.” She turns to show Margaery her back. 

Margaery melts at this. She runs her hand across her name. “It looks so beautiful,” she compliments wholeheartedly. “You’re amazing for doing that. I----I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’re going to win,” Sansa jokes lightly. “I didn’t spend hours stitching this so you could lose.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be my cheerleader,” Margaery pushes gently.  

Sansa leans in. “You know I gave up that short skirt years ago.” 

Margaery purses her lips thoughtfully. “Such a shame. They showed off your legs very nicely,” Margaery jokes lecherously. She breaks out into a laugh. 

Sansa is not amused as she blushes. “Margaery!” She slaps Margaery’s shoulder as she laughs.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” Margaery argues as she grabs Sansa’s hands. She notices a look that her coach is giving her. Sansa does too by the way she trails back to the tall blonde woman. 

“Looks like you have to go,” Sansa says.

Margaery nods, this time more confidently with a small smile on her face as she stares up at Sansa. “I’m really happy you’re here,” she expresses. 

Sansa smiles proudly. “I am too. I can’t wait to see you compete,” she squeezes Margaery’s hands for emphasis. She takes a moment to look at Margaery, just to make sure her friend is actually feeling better. She sounds it, but being able to stare into Margaery’s eyes means so much more. 

Sansa feels so much more connected to Margaery when she actually looks at her. It’s like they have an unbreakable connection. It feels honest and raw compared to anyone else.

Without realizing it, her eyes drop down to Margaery’s lips. Maybe it’s because of how long they’ve held eye contact but suddenly the distance between them seems to shrink. Sansa can feel Margaery’s warm aura close to her. 

Margaery tilts her head up curiously at the way Sansa stares at her. She licks her lips unconsciously. 

Sansa swallows before leaning down, eyes on Margaery’s lips Her heart starts to pound inside of her and her whole body starts to flare. Sansa panics though. She changes her mind at the last second and presses her lips against Margaery’s cheek, dangerously close to her lips. When she pulls back, Margaery stares at her in shock. 

Yet a small smile curls at the corner of Margaery’s lips. “What was that for?” Margaery smoothly asks.

Sansa blushes. “Good luck,” she says quickly before letting go of Margaery’s hands. “Kick their arses!” She yells as she rushes back to the stands. She can hear Margaery yell thank you but all Sansa can hear is the way her heart pounds in her ears. 

_ I almost kissed Margaery! I almost did it! Why did I do that?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, im sad to say that i wont be posting another chapter next week simply because im working on a fanfiction for supergirl and saving hope. originally they were shorter projects but there's a lot i wanted to unfold so that's gonna get done, hopefully before the end of the month before i go on vacation. i do want to say that im planning to write at least one more chapter in the next couple of weeks obviously im hoping to do more but i am a bit stuck so bear with me
> 
> i want to leave you guys with this chapter because we are going to move forward with the reality that margaery is going to university!!! so prepare your hearts and tissues....im sure it wont be THAT bad but just in case - as always come through my message box or comment they definitely keep me going!

**Author's Note:**

> also at my tumblr nocteverbascio.tumblr.com


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